


Casualties of Choice

by Jalice



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Character Study, EDI-Kasumi Friendship, Love Triangles, Shakarian - Freeform, Shrios
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-10 14:20:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 38,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jalice/pseuds/Jalice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus and Shepard are tentative about introducing a more physical dynamic to their friendship. Of course things become more complicated when a certain enigmatic drell captures the commander's attention. </p>
<p>Shameless Shepard/Garrus/Thane triangle. Rated M for language and sexuality. Starts as ME2 headcanon, but veers off to become an AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shepard's New Gun

"If you kill a man with your gun, do you hold the gun responsible?"

Shepard couldn't disagree more. "My gun can't decide right from wrong, you clearly do."

The assassin took her response in stride, "My soul does, but my body is merely flesh-flesh whose reflexes were honed to kill. Drell minds are different from humans. We see our body as a vessel and accept that it is not always under our control."

Krios's posture and tone were detached... _too_  detached. Her reply was heated in contrast, "So you don't assume any responsibility for the things you do?" The idea was appalling. It wasn't that she didn't understand the need for killing, it was that she always took responsibility for the necessity of it.

"Not every action performed by my body is the result of conscious choices. I take responsibility for those that are."

Shepard resisted the urge to refute him further, he'd obviously heard and made these arguments before. While she accepted the concept of battle reflexes which lead to killing, -she'd experienced them herself- there were too many aspects of his life's work which she wouldn't categorize as involuntary acts. The commander's own moral compass would never allow her to affirm such a ludicrous philosophy on assassination.

Nevertheless, she didn't want to ostracize the lone assassin. He evidently held a distinct moral belief system which his personal sense of identity depended on. And as he was graciously choosing to put himself in harm's way for her cause, she wouldn't risk offending him. Whatever his beliefs, he was willing to "be her gun" when she needed it. That was enough for her.

Opting to change the subject, Shepard recalled the last time she'd spoken with him. Thane had explained solipsism, a characteristic shared by all members of his species; drell had eidetic memory. It was a trait she had to admit she envied. She asked him about the last memory he'd lost himself in, something about sunset-colored eyes.

" _Laser dot trembles on the skull. Spice on the spring wind. Sunset eyes, defiant in the scope..._ A bystander noticed my spotting laser and threw herself between me and the target. She couldn't see me, but she stared me down." The shadow of a smile crossed his face as he spoke.

"How intriguing. Did you take the shot?"

"Not...that day."

 _So the "gun"' chose not to take the shot after all?_  Shepard felt a little satisfaction at seeing him contradict himself, but she refrained from pointing it out. He already seemed conflicted about this memory at any rate. She stood to take her leave. "I should get back to my duties."

✪

"Shepard, I appreciate these chats we have." Thane flinched inwardly at the uncharacteristic eagerness in his tone. It was his habit to keep others at a distance, and with good reason, but he was willing to permit himself a little latitude given the unique circumstances. After all, Shepard was no innocent bystander -she was nearly as deadly as himself -nor was she a threat to him; no one was, now that his life was reaching its end.

She paused mid-stride, her small human eyes piercing his, "You've spent a lot of your life alone, Thane.”

He acknowledged the truth of her words with a small, curt nod. It seemed his years of solitude had left his social graces lacking and it showed. "Work fulfilled me. Reading. I've barely spoken to anyone outside my family. It seems there will be no one to mourn me when I die. You're the only friend I've made in ten years," yet another uncharacteristically open statement escaping his lips.

He had accepted this "suicide mission" hoping to find an honorable death, nothing more. Perhaps it was a side effect of his impending demise, or just that the commander had such a strong and charismatic personality, but he had begun to look forward to Shepard's visits to his makeshift quarters. He admired this rare human and had not, until recently, had much call to acknowledge how lonely he truly felt before. The commander’s open curiosity was strangely…gratifying. He wished to encourage more.

But Shepard only crossed her arms and cocked her hip, "You're quite the paradox, Krios. You seem more like a monk than an assassin. Y’know, this crew is pretty diverse, you must have something in common with some of them. Get out of this room and talk to them."

He turned back to face the view of the drive core, his voice carefully even, "I shall...consider it."

With softening features, she dropped her hands. "I consider you a friend, too, Thane."

"I won't keep you." He felt a twinge of guilt for dismissing her so briskly, but he did not turn to watch her leave. Thane was rattled by her response. But why? She had, after all, responded favorably in the end. What exactly was he hoping to make of their tenuous friendship?

He felt the rumbling of disquiet in his chest. He was no longer still. He would meditate on this.

* * *

As the doors to Life Support hissed shut behind her, Shepard sighed discreetly. She generally took pride in seeing to her crew, but Thane Krios was...difficult.

She had worked hard to show everyone aboard the Normandy that she valued them all as individuals. It was the single most enjoyable aspect of her command. Kasumi called her ability to unite unexpected allies "Shep's superpower." The way the commander saw it, the only superpower she really possessed, was instilling trust in people. She made a point of reaching out to each being individually and really listening to their stories, even if it was only ever told between the lines. Once she came to understand her team, she found she couldn't fail them. And despite the intense demands she placed upon them, her hand-picked motley crew rarely failed her either.

Instinct and experience had taught her that she needed to maintain a certain professional distance for her command to be effective. It was a tricky equilibrium to maintain, but she'd gotten pretty good at it, for the most part. Except her attempt to balance distance and personal attention with Thane wasn’t quite sitting well. She couldn't pinpoint the reason, but the more time she spent with him, the more urgently she wanted to cut through his...isolation.

_I'm dying._

He’d told her matter-of-factly that he was terminally ill when she first recruited him. The amber twilight filtering through the blinds had framed his silhouette in a fitting omen for such an announcement. Once aboard the Normandy, he had assured her that he was strong enough to fight for the next eight to twelve months, and that he "wouldn't be a burden." After a medical exam in the med bay, Chakwas had confirmed it: Kepral's Syndrome, a gradual but terminal lung disease only afflicting drell.

Death and the commander were intimate bedfellows, but it was still altogether different to face an unknown, -albeit likely- possibility of death as opposed to the certainty that Krios was confronted with. A certainty that haunted her dreams, or what blessedly little she remembered of them. Even so, some nagging instinct warned her that his condition wasn’t the cause of his reclusion.

Nor was it his line of work. As covert as his profession was, it hadn’t cast that desolate shade over his otherwise detached demeanor. The quiet, calm explanations he provided as justification for killing assured her of that.

The fact was, the man reeked of regret, and yet he claimed he felt no guilt.

Shepard shook her head minutely; this wasn't getting her anywhere. She could only really pin down what was not the cause. The root of the issue, and whatever the hell it was that inspired the inclination to reach for his hand as he spoke, remained elusory.  _Whatever his problem is, he's a reserved self-imposed loner. He’d probably find sympathy condescending._

 All the same, something about him nagged at her. She knew she wasn't getting the whole picture. It remained an irritating source of unease.

 ****  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at a fanfic, so if you comment, please be gentle with me. That said, I do appreciate it if readers have the time/inclination to point out typos, grammar mistakes, and formatting errors. The first several chapters went unbeta-ed after all. Also, fair warning, I publish each chapter as I write it, so I'm constantly going back and editing/altering/improving old chapters (sometimes drastically) as the story matures.
> 
> Thanks for checking this fic out. I hope you enjoy it.


	2. Sidonis

Garrus Vakarian, with his penchant for grit and steadfast loyalty, was probably Shepard’s closest friend. He always had her back and he hardly judged her when the darker side of her nature reared up in the face of the savagery that sometimes came with the job. It was this special brand of loyalty that helped the commander to endure the tough decisions which inevitably resulted in casualties.

Since her preternatural return to duty, however, something had changed with Garrus. His life's quest for justice had...shifted ever since she pulled "Archangel" out of that Omega hell hole with half of his face blown off. He had suffered the loss of most of his friends on the Normandy two years earlier and created a new persona as a vigilante fighting the gangs of Blue Suns, Blood Pack, Eclipse, and miscellaneous scum on the frontier pirate station. From the stories she had heard, he'd built up a small but formidable army of loyal men fighting to keep the Omega gangs in check. She'd have been proud to join him, had she not been, well, dead. That was, until he was betrayed by one of his own, Sidonis, resulting in the deaths of all of his comrades on Omega.

Though she'd sensed the change in him from the first time they’d spoken on the Normandy again, she'd more or less written it off as a response to that last devastating fight on Omega or the disorientation of returning to a ghost ship with a resurrected CO. But now, sitting next to him in the shuttle on their way to confront Sidonis...there was no further explanation or excuse she could offer herself. This change went a lot deeper than that. Justice wasn’t enough any more; he sought brutal vengeance.

It wasn't that she particularly cared about the life of Sidonis. In their line of work, killing was a necessity. Many of the mercs and soldiers she'd gunned down had families, loved ones, reasons for standing between her and her objective; but that never stopped her. There were bigger issues at stake, much bigger. However she never killed needlessly or indiscriminately either. Whenever possible, she gave opponents the opportunity to surrender peacefully. Garrus had shown the same proclivity in battle before. Not anymore.

After they'd gone to retrieve information on Sidonis's whereabouts from a mid-level, ex-C-Sec criminal named Harkin, she saw a cruelty in Garrus she had never witnessed before. His ruthlessness was raw and hungry. He craved the suffering of the piddly little man who had helped Sidonis escape into anonymity. He would have shot Harkin point blank in the kneecap if she hadn't swatted his Razer away. Garrus had obviously lost himself, and she had ignored the signs for too long.

Shepard could empathize. _Ash_. Some losses you never recovered from, no matter how they came about. And the burning questions, -such as _What could I have done?_ \- left scorch marks on your soul. But Garrus didn’t have an intergalactic super villain to tear down to keep him focused. He barely seemed to register the Collector threat at all. It was as though that grim recess of grief and failure had enveloped him entirely and Shepard didn’t like to think about what that meant for her closest friend and confidante. Here, in the relative privacy of a speeding skycar, was her chance to do something about it.

"I'm gettin' a little worried about you Garrus. You were pretty hard on Harkin. It's just not like you."

Garrus shifted slightly away from her, keeping his eyes on the shuttle route. "What do you want from me Shepard? What would you do if someone betrayed you?"

"I'm not sure, but I wouldn't let it change me."

"I would have said the same thing before it happened to me."

"It's not too late. You don't have to go through with this." She stared at him, her eyes pleading, but he refused to look at her.

"Who's going to bring Sidonis to justice if I don't?” He growled subharmonically, unable to prevent it even from reaching her limited human hearing, “Nobody else knows what he's done. Nobody else cares. I don't see any other options."

" _I_ care." She paused a beat, "Just let me talk to him."

Garrus tilted his head back in weary exasperation. He might have rolled his eyes, if it had been a gesture turians were accustomed to. "Talk all you want, but it won't change my mind. I don't care what his reasons were, he screwed us. He _deserves_ to die."

Shepard bit down on her defeat, she was losing this battle. "I understand what you're going through but do you really want to _execute_ him?"

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm not you."

Never one to surrender, Shepard would have the last word, "This isn't you either."

 

* * *

Here it was again. Another moment of truth.

Garrus, perched on the catwalk only a few hundred meters away, had his sights trained on Sidonis and the only thing preventing him from squeezing the trigger was that she had positioned herself in his line of sight. She felt his gaze through the scope as an ant feels a beam of light through a magnifying glass. She'd blocked his shot to give Sidonis a chance to explain his reasons -cowardly, but honest. By now, Garrus couldn't deny that Sidonis was having a difficult time living with the guilt of his betrayal. Hell Sidonis had, in his way, given permission to end his suffering.

The thought of cold, calculated execution turned her stomach, but then again...what would she have done if this piece of shit had gotten Garrus or Joker killed? If she were brutally honest with herself, she had to acknowledge that watching Saren blow his own brains out had been deeply satisfying in the grim recesses of her soul. Maybe that wasn’t the point, though. What she really needed to know was what would become of Garrus if she let him take the shot? If she blocked him? Should she move aside or tell Garrus to stand down?

Then Shepard had a split-second epiphany: _It doesn’t matter._

Garrus had always stood by her, even when he disagreed with her methods. How could she not offer him the same trust? She hoped that whatever he decided, it would help him find peace, but even if it didn’t, she’d stand by him. She wouldn't force it either way.

She stepped aside. "I can't help you, Sidonis."

As she walked away, her chest tightened when she heard the precision blast of a sniper shot, but she didn't look back.

* * *

 

Garrus felt conflicted about the shooting, now that it was over. He had to admit to himself, it wasn't as satisfying as he'd expected, but he'd be damned if he'd regret it either.

"I know you want to talk about this, but I don't. Not yet." He stood poised to turn his back on her. She might have stepped aside in the end, but he was still fully prepared to defend himself against judgment.

Instead, she took his talon and squeezed it with her smallish, human hand. With large glistening eyes, Shepard held his talon and his gaze for a long pause -considering that they should be fleeing the scene. Then she simply turned towards the skycar. "Alright, let's go."

This strangely comforting human gesture, was much more jarring than the disapproval he’d braced himself for. He'd seen humans using their soft and sensitive hands in various gestures of affection or trust. He'd gotten used to the human custom of shaking hands in greeting or in agreement, but this, -the way she had looked at him- this was different. This made him feel...

Humans tended to be more effusive and chaotic with the way they communicated in general, -probably to compensate for their flat, monotoned vocals. He’d never cared much for working with them back in his C-Sec days, but Shepard had been different from the start. For one, Shepard had bigger quads than most, human or not, and in the heat of things, she never wavered in her convictions. She was a damn fine leader, strong and unrelenting in her principals, a trait he could not fail to respect. Yet in the downtime between missions she could be, well, practically affectionate by turian standards. Even more shocking, he found that he really liked that about her. Be that as it may, he had hardly expected such a show of lenity in the face of a death she obviously disapproved of. It was unnerving, somehow, as was the warmth of her hands through her gloves.

"Thanks Shepard. Let's get moving. I need to get away from this place."

 


	3. A Sparring Match, Commander?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RECAP:  
> ○ Shep argues the "I'm just a gun" theory with Thane. She finds him intriguing. He surprises himself by encouraging her to visit more.  
> ○ Shep worries about Garrus's psychological state. He's turned ruthless when it comes to Sidonis. She decides to stand by him regardless of how fucked up his decision seems.

"I didn't think you'd feel like sparring, Commander."

Facing Garrus, she raised one eyebrow in mischievous challenge, her arms folded over her chest. "That's not exactly what I meant. I'm certainly up for comparing inter-species reach and flexibility in other arenas if you are."

"Oh, I didn't...hmmm." Garrus looked genuinely flabbergasted, but he recovered quickly. "Never knew you had a weakness for men with scars."

Shepard stood before him with a coy smile and a smug twinkle in her eyes. She was thoroughly enjoying his agitation -her bad-ass right-hand man, with all of his confident soldiering and general ball-busting, reduced to looking down and shifting his weight. She had to clench her jaw a little to keep from snickering.

Of course, she couldn't really blame him for being thrown off-guard; it wasn't a simple matter to casually bed one's commander, but she wasn't a typical commander either. Even back when she was firmly a die-hard Alliance marine, she was considered an eccentric of sorts, with a liberal leadership style. Heh, she was probably even more so now that she was...cooperating with Cerberus. But Garrus had always seemed to appreciate her command style in the past. He hated pretension, regulation and bullshit as much as she did, probably more. Besides, she didn't really think Garrus saw her strictly as a commander anyway. Could he really be so shocked at the idea? _Or maybe he's just not into humans._

It wasn't as though she had planned this. It was just that she had so nearly lost him to his own bitterness. It was such a relief to have a hint of the old Garrus back. Now that she was confronted by Cerberus intrusion at every turn, she couldn't deny how much she had missed him, needed him. Garrus stood apart from the rest of the crew. He was an equal -a friend, true blue. So as he was recounting his amusing sexual anecdote, she realized that she rather envied the object of his story. And now that the idea had come to her, well, it just seemed like a decent one. _Come on, Garrus, it's not such an awful notion, is it?_

Garrus broke the loaded silence, "Well, why the hell not? There's no one I respect in this galaxy more than you and if we can figure out a way to make it work...Then, yeah. Definitely."

Satisfied, Shepard took her leave, holding his eye as she brushed past him, maintaining a crooked, coy smile. She felt good about this. It'd be interesting to see a different side of Garrus and, a little exciting too. This could be just what she needed to lay down some of that pent-up anxiety she'd been carrying around. Sometimes, you just need to get laid. And sometimes too, you just need to hold someone. Garrus would do nicely for both needs.

She chuckled to herself once she'd reached the privacy of the elevator. His response had been fully entertaining too, she looked forward to seeing just how much she could fluster him.

 ✪

  
Garrus, on the other hand, was struggling to keep his composure when Shepard had brushed past him with a seductive little saunter. He thought he'd gotten used to humans by now; he’d felt comfortable among them for some time now. But in this case, he wished he'd paid more attention to the nuances in their behavior, or at least to Shepard’s. He thought he knew her well, but this was just...unexpected. Had she been flirting with him before? He'd never thought of her that way. Well, maybe...sort of. He certainly cared for her, and sometimes, he couldn't deny that it he liked it when she singled him out both on and off the battlefield. But still...was she joking?

He'd always loved that spark in her eye when she screwed with some of the crew members who took themselves too seriously. Those that had learned to take it in stride and throw a little banter around, were the ones who were closest to her, and they'd learned that she could give as good as she got. It eased the tension that goes along with the high expectations of working with a "legend."

Garrus and Shepard had both upped the ante over time, and it brought them to a comfortable place to vent and, more importantly, it gave plenty of room for honesty too. He’d never enjoyed working under anyone else’s command, until he’d met her. But just now, that smart-ass spark had held something more when she looked at him. Was this really as casual as sparring? He realized that he really hoped that it was and simultaneously...that he was disappointed too.

Garrus preferred to see the galaxy through a simple, practical brand of cynicism, choosing either the black or white side of things. Gray areas generally pissed him off. He left it to Shepard to navigate the gray areas. Only now, the unfamiliar contradiction of desire and brooding nausea he was feeling was definitely a gray area, and Shepard had caused it. This did not bode well. He felt a trembling grumble rise in his gullet.

He had no clue as to how to proceed. What if he got it wrong? What if he...let her down? A firm knot of dread tied itself inside his being. He raised his omni-tool and sent a message to Liara. She knew more about human behavior than he did and she was close to Shepard too. She'd be honest and discreet. And best of all, she wasn't part of the crew anymore; she was off information-brokering. Therefore if this whole idea blew up in his face, she wouldn't be around to prod him about it afterward.

 


	4. Gently Raking Talons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RECAP:  
> ○ Shep argues the "I'm just a gun" theory with Thane. She finds him intriguing. He surprises himself by encouraging her to visit more.  
> ○ Shep invites Garrus to blow off steam with her, reasoning that once in a while one needs to get laid as well as exchange a little basic affection to stay sane. She thinks Garrus will be perfect considering how practical and trusworthy/discreet he is. Garrus, on the other hand is really nervous and uncomfortable with the idea. He fears letting her down somehow.

Shepard could not bring herself to watch the vids.

She was curious about turian romantic and sexual culture. More than that, she didn't want to blunder into some taboo or other misunderstanding if she was going to try this thing with Garrus. But the idea of watching either the informative demonstration vids available in EDI's database, or the inter-species kink porn on the extranet unnerved her. This was Garrus. _Garrus._

Unfortunately, it seemed turians held just as vast a variety of cultural and philosophical perspectives on love and sex as humans did. She sighed and leaned back into her chair. She should have expected as much. Then again, with turian civic and military prominence, there was bound to be some manual on basic protocol, right? Or perhaps she should just start with anatomy? She'd heard several lewd jokes about the...pointiness of the turian penis as well as the plates that protected internally stored genitalia. Interspecies sensitivity training, back in basic, had taught her that it was extremely bad manners to touch a turian’s crest uninvited -the equivalent of grabbing someone's tits or something. Also that certain poses were considered gestures of dominance and/or submission and easily led to cross-species misunderstandings. In fact, most of that class had centered around a universal tack of neutrality that was agreed upon by the intergalactic community which mostly led to the sort of stiff, inauthentic exchange Garrus didn’t appreciate. She needed to stick with a more personal, genuine approach, but human gestures of affection might only translate into something awkward for a turian, or vice versa. She had to find some middle ground based in turian affection. Shepard then remembered seeing a vid once, where some sort of subharmonic duet was a part of the turian romantic bonding process. Or was that only in the movies?...oh hell, maybe porn was a good start after all. At least she'd have a rough baseline of what was sexually attractive to the species. Then she could move on to investigating some sort of “just right” brand of affection for Garrus. She mustered up her courage and hunkered down at her private terminal to research, starting with what she hoped was standard turian porn.

Apparently, one of the most attractive features of a female was her waist to hip ratio. The smaller the waist, the wider the hips, the sexier the female. And one of the most desirable attributes for the turian male was an expansive torso and an impressive crest. The longer the crest, the longer the... _Damn. This is going to be more of a mindfuck than I thought._ Shepard rubbed a calloused hand roughly over her eyes to eradicate the image of Garrus’s crest length in ratio to a human penis. Such speculation was about as helpful as a hanar bouncer at Afterlife. This reach and flexibility plan was starting to result in the opposite of its intended effect; _creating_ rather than dispersing tension.

She’d half a mind to back out, if it weren’t for her own competitive edge. She’d been, sadly, a bit desperate in her loneliness since her…alleged resurrection. She needed this, and besides, if anyone was going to turn chicken-shit over the awkward racial differences, it damn sure wouldn’t be her.

Shepard had never been particularly body-shy. She was...satisfied with her compact athletic form. She could probably do without the glowing scars which looked more like cybernetic seams than anything else, or the worry lines stamping themselves on her face, but meh, she supposed they gave her character. She had other attributes to make up for that. All in all, she liked what she saw in the mirror. The lines of her body were feminine and proportionate relative to the strong musculature her line of work required. And she felt a bit fortunate that her breasts were still pleasantly soft and generously proportioned despite having strong pectorals so often used to brace against the kickback of an assault rifle.

But her curves were subtle in comparison to the extremes of the preferred ratio of turian tastes. Besides that, maybe he just thought breasts were...squishy. _Okay. Do not over-think. Garrus doesn't sport muscular biceps or a hairy chest, but that doesn't mean he's unattractive. He's just, Garrus._

Garrus Vakarian -she smiled to herself - the definitive space cowboy if ever there was one. Garrus was refreshing, in his rejection of societal expectations. It was so attractively masculine. The lone figure, heeding only his own individual honor code, like a sort of space-aged Clint Eastwood, with a smart-ass quip at every turn. She considered it a personal victory to have earned the trust and loyalty of such a being. Her smile broadened. Yes, she certainly found Garrus attractive. She could sense a faint warmth skimming from her heart to her extremities as she allowed herself to picture his arms enveloping her. His dark harmonic growl humming in her ears. His sharp talons gently raking her naked skin... _Whoa there. Better return to my research._

Apparently, gestures of dominance and submission took a fundamental role in sexual and romantic behavior. Biting was a prominent sign of dominance, especially around the neck or waist. And gently tracing sharpened talons along the sensitive seams of the carapace was another. Exposing the back of the neck, or lengthening the mid-drift, thus inviting said biting was a desirable expression of trust. But did that extend to casual sex between comrades? She had heard that turian soldiers often engaged in recreational sex including both heterosexual and homosexual affairs. Alliance marines had a long stock of jokes about turian liaisons aboard warships. _So are they all out there biting each other or is that something one only does with a potential lifemate?_

Personally, she'd prefer to relinquish control and be the passive party in bed. She had to be the discerning leader in essentially all other arenas in her life. It was a spectacular turn-on to cede that side of herself, even if only in empty pantomime with a lover. Unfortunately, a majority of her sexual partners were attracted to her confidence and strength of character in the first place, and often sought that aspect of her in the bedroom - not that she minded that much; it was still enjoyable either way. But would that undermine their current relationship in Garrus's case? Did he expect her to take a dominant role? Should she bite him? Shepard bared her teeth, tensed her jaw, and crinkled her nose in a grimace. That didn't sound like a good idea.

 _Shit. Who could I ask about this?_ Unexpectedly, her thoughts drifted to Thane Krios, the monkish assassin. His lifestyle and demeanor didn't hint at there being much room for a long-term romantic partner. Did he ever...blow off steam in his travels? There was certainly something very sensual about the big-eyed, full-lipped drell. Had he had many alien lovers? Had he ever been in love? He'd mentioned the taste of another's tongue in his mouth when he was explaining solipsism, after all. Shepard remembered feeling oddly embarrassed at the image of Thane in another's intimate embrace at the time. No, on second thought, there was no way she could bring herself to ask him about it.

Perhaps Liara then? Asari, being the attractive, sexually adaptable, long-lived species they were, probably knew a lot more about inter-species intimacy. And she could trust Liara to be sensitive and discreet. She resolved to send Dr. T'soni a message.

* * *

 

"Do I look like some rutting recruit out for something to brag about?"

Liara watched Garrus shifting back on one leg and folding his arms via holo communication buoy on their omni-tools. The image gave her a sense of nostalgia so sharp it caused a pleasant sort of vertigo. She was one of the few remaining who’d been aboard the first Normandy when this all began. She, Garrus, and Tali had all held Shepard in a sort of childish awe back then. Her own version had manifested into a crush, whereas Garrus’s had seemed a bit more like adolescent hero worship at the time. It didn’t take long before he’d adopted a number of Shepard’s mannerisms as his own, and here he was, leaning back in a classic Shepard pose of defiance.

"Garrus, I wasn’t implying anything, I just wondered if you had ever been with a human or an asari before. They're surprisingly similar in sexual behavior, minus the biotic foreplay among most humans of course."

"Biotic foreplay? Do you think she's into that?!"

Liara stifled a smile; Garrus was starting to panic a little. “I'm sure she isn't expecting that. As I was saying, few humans do."

"But she's a powerful biotic! What if-"

"Garrus! Focus, please."

She watched as he forced himself to inhale deeply, and then fail to suppress an audibly low grumble as he exhaled.

"You must try to relax a little. You said she seemed playful about it. You even wondered if she was joking. I highly doubt she expects you to turn into a Romeo."

"A what?"

"A romantic legend in Earth literature, never mind. Let's start with the basics. You're much too focused on what _she_ might expect. What do _you_ want from this?"

"Uh..."

"Alright, perhaps a little more fundamental than that then. How do you feel about her?"

"..." His mandibles twitched restlessly.

"By the Goddess, Garrus, are you even attracted to her?!"

"Yes!" he hesitated, "I think. I mean, yes. Look, I never considered inter-species...relations before. And Shepard is...well, she's Shepard. She's not even strictly human to me. She's in her own category. Always has been. I could never...disappoint her."

"You care for her, of course."

"Very much."

Liara didn’t bother to stifle her smile now. It pleased her to know they were finally discovering the potential she’d seem in them long before. "I'm sure she knows that, otherwise she wouldn't have asked you, trusted you. And you do realize that she cares for you too?"

"She's the best damned friend I've ever had."

"Alright. Keep that in the forefront of your mind. If you can trust in your friendship, than all the rest of it will come in its own time." She realized she'd finally hit the right nerve when she saw his anxiety visibly draining away. "Now, as for the mechanics of human relations..."

 

 


	5. EDI and the Anomaly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deeply admire the authors who manage never to use Shepard's first name. (Especially the humorous way Ezri pulled it off in Resolution). I think it's more fun for the reader when they can apply their own personal version of Shepard to the story. However, I just couldn't find a way for Garrus to separate private Shepard time with business as usual without expressing intimacy through her first name. So she gets a plain Jane default name for those little moments between them, hopefully preserving an open to interpretation Shepard.

"Do you have a minute?"

As the doors hissed closed behind Shepard, Garrus looked about the main battery conspiratorially, scanning for Kasumi’s tell-tale cloaking resonance with his visor. "Yeah. I've been thinking about what we talked about: blowing off steam, easing tension..."

"I know,” Shepard replied. “Apparently I messaged Liara while she was busy talking to you."

"She told you about that did she?" The clasps of his armor suddenly felt too restrictive.

"Only that she'd just gotten off the comm with you, but you could hear the amusement in her voice when she apologized for taking so long to get back to me." Shepard looked up at him, pressing her fleshy lips together in a strained expression, her eyes glittering in a familiar way. She raised an eyebrow and his good mandible twitched in response. She snorted once, twice, then they both succumbed to an outburst of nervous laughter.

"Great minds think alike, Garrus."

Garrus felt his chest plates retract back to a more relaxed position. That shared moment of laughter confirmed Liara's words; as long as he had faith in their friendship..."Talking with Liara was… very informative." He gave Shepard a little wink, a human gesture she'd often exchanged with him over an after-mission drink and a few ball-busting observations of the crew. He had liked the gesture immediately, especially when he realized she only ever used it with him.

"Honestly Shepard, I've never considered inter-species intercourse. And damn saying it like that doesn't help. Now I just feel dirty and clinical. Are we crazy to even be-"

"Garrus, wait." she grasped his forearm with a feather-light touch so uncharacteristic of her, he had to swallow his unease. "Listen, through everything we’ve been through on this ship, it gets to me, sometimes. It’s difficult to compartmentalize, y’know? And I need to go back to just being human, er...alive, you know what I mean?" Now it was her turn to be flustered. She shook her head lightly before tilting her chin up to look him in the eye again. "I hadn't planned this -the idea just struck me, spontaneously, before I’d thought it through- I might have been a bit heavy-handed in my brazen flirting before and I don't want to make you uncomfortable. There are plenty of other ways to blow off steam. This isn’t...it's not a duty. There’s no hard feelings if you change your mind." She stepped back and reclaimed her go-to confident stance; arms crossed, weight on her back leg. The ball was in his court.

"Hey, that’s not what I was getting at.” He shifted his weight before beginning his explanation, “Look, I'm not gonna pretend I have a fetish for humans, but this isn't about that. You're about the only friend I've got left in this screwed up galaxy. Before you brought this up, I had never allowed myself to think of you like that -not that you're not- I mean, there was a block." He released a gravelly sigh and stepped a little nearer. "Look, I know you can find someone a little closer to home." That last sentence was spoken in a lowered tone, Shepard ought to recognize it as the one he used when he wanted to cut the bullshit and get to the heart of the matter. She would have to answer the unspoken, _"Why me?_ " written in his eyes honestly.

"I don't want someone closer to home. I want someone I can trust. And there's no one in the galaxy I trust more than you, Garrus Vakarian."

An unfamiliar warmth began spreading in his abdomen. He felt a glowing sort of pride as he reached for the hand she had tucked under an elbow. A subharmonic rumble of contentment came unbidden before he began his reply. "For the record, you don't have to worry about making me uncomfortable. Nervous yes, but never uncomfortable. This will either be a night to treasure or a horrible inter-species awkwardness thing -in which case, fighting the Collectors, will be a welcome distraction, so you know, a win either way."

She chuckled, but didn't release his talon. "Garrus?"

"Yeah?"

"No matter how this goes down, I promise you, you'll never lose my friendship. That bond, is unbreakable."

"Likewise, Jane."

She ran a stubby thumb over the back of his talon, before releasing it. "Now, I've got to check in with Kelly, I'm sure I have unread messages to attend to and since I'm on a roll here, I might as well enjoy the ego-boost of a few not-so-subtle flirtations from someone a little closer to home." She smirked as his mandibles drooped in surprise and gave him a little wink. "I'll let you get back to work."

"Ri-i-ight. 'Cause I'm in a great place to optimize firing algorithms now."

 

* * *

 

EDI opened the doors for the commander as she backed out of the main battery, taking note of how her heart rate and temperature had spiked over the course of the social exchange. EDI's programming prioritized the monitoring of the bio-rhythms of all the crewman, especially Commander Shepard's. It observed that she had an unusual baseline for her species. There was no data prior to Commander Shepard's resurrection, thus the AI could not determine if she had always had an extremely high tolerance to stress or if it was the result of Cerberus upgrades. But stressors which would trigger extreme fight or flight adrenal-reflexes in the average human rarely afflicted the commander. Shepard maintained focus and a steady heartbeat in the heat of hazardous situations which might bio-chemically cripple most other humans with fear. And under the extreme circumstances when epinephrine actually was released into the commander’s system, it worked at 1.74 times the efficiency rate of the average human. In other words, Commander Shepard was more functionally efficient under extreme stress than most other members of her species.

  
So the commander’s slight increase in heart rate during recent social exchanges with Garrus Vakarian, codename: Archangel, was an anomaly.

After observing the comm conversations earlier between Garrus Varkarian, Commander Shepard, and Dr. T’Soni, EDI had deduced that Garrus Vakarian and the commander were considering social-reproductive activities. It was illogical as their dextro-levo incompatibilities made creating viable offspring extremely unlikely.* However, EDI acknowledged that the social workings of organics provided more benefits than logical outcomes predicted.

  
EDI had long ago derived positive feedback in its programming, or enjoyment if you will, while observing social interactions between organics. It had not yet calculated a limit to the effects of the many manifestations of social interaction. It was constantly developing new algorithms for determining patterns and likely outcomes as well their effects on the crew. It had become, for lack of a better term, a fulfilling hobby for EDI -a source of growth in the AI's awareness. EDI resolved to prioritize integrating more algorithms for analyzing social-sexual interactions in addition to its priority on humor for future observation.

But there remained one glaringly obvious flaw to EDI’s categorization of this anomaly as the result of social-sexual interactions. Given that most humans practiced serial monogamy, only pursuing one amorous-sexual relationship at a time, it was inconsistent with one other occurrence in which EDI had observed the same bio-rhythmic spikes while the commander was socializing in a non-hazardous environment: her last exchange with the drell, Sere Thane Krios.

* * *

 

 * EDI's medical database did contain theories which postulated that levo-dextro ambidextrous beings were genetically possible based on known bacteria which could catalyze a switch between levo and dextro molecules. But there were no known cases of any such complex lifeform in existence.


	6. Thane's Regret

 

Permitting herself a little self-satisfied smirk, Shepard idly rolled her shoulder and shifted her weight inside the elevator cab.  The trip to Pragia had gone rather well. There were no injuries, negligible resistance, it provided a low risk opportunity to gauge two of her newest recruits, and Jack got some closure regarding her past. If only every mission could be wrapped up as neatly.

Shepard had been shrewd enough to watch Thane closely for any handicaps from his weakened lungs in the humid climate on Pragia. Best she find out if he was truly capable for the strain of combat sooner rather than later. To her relief, he showed no signs of hindrance at all, barring a mask which filtered out the moisture in the air; she almost doubted whether he was really terminally ill. And Jack...Jack had gained a wider understanding of that wretched place. She may not realize it yet, but understanding the whys of a trauma, even if the explanations are horrible, really would help her to cope and move on. She'd be sure to give Jack a little more time to herself before approaching her about it, but Shepard felt confident that Jack would be focused and ready for the more important fight which lay ahead.

  
She found herself curious as to what Thane had thought of her interception with Jack and Aresh, the other Pragia survivor. She couldn't let Jack execute Aresh, partly because she needed to press Jack to follow orders -hell, she had to push Jack to listen to anything besides her own hateful inner monologue. But more importantly, she needed Jack to see there was more to life, more to her, than what Cerberus had made of her. _Turning a survivor into another victim of this fucking place isn't going to help you Jack, even if he is a little twisted._ In the end, Jack had broken free of her emotions long enough to let Aresh go. Shepard had been proud of her and she was relieved to see Thane showing unobtrusive compassion towards Jack as well. Recognizing that he valued life, despite his profession, that he took pride in protecting innocents, Shepard guessed that Thane probably approved.

As an added bonus, Shepard got to see Thane in action against a few Blood Pack mercs. She was genuinely impressed. He was a versatile fighter; possessing a steady aim with a sniper rifle, a powerful biotic throw, masterful hand-to-hand combat skills, and above all, impeccable stealth and timing. The man seemed to anticipate where he'd be most useful and more often than not, he appeared there before she'd given his orders.

At one point, Shepard had held back to watch him soundlessly flank four blood pack mercenaries. Just as their krogan leader got distracted by an argument over credits, Thane leaped upon his shoulders, crushing his brow ridges and effectively blinding him with two powerful and precisely well-aimed jabs. Then using his own body weight as a pendulum, he snapped the merc's neck (a feat which would require considerably more strength than most humans possessed). As he vaulted for cover, he expelled an impressive biotic throw just before he landed with a soft feline thud behind the safety of a few large crates. The dazed mercs who had been smashed to the ground had not even registered from which direction it had come, making it easier for Shepard and Jack to finish the leaderless pack off.

The efficient flourish with which Thane disposed of his enemies was indeed enjoyable to behold, even if the commander wondered if Thane wasn't showing off a little. Shepard could almost feel grateful that the Illusive Man had recommended him, though his life's work made his trustworthiness...suspect. Her good sense told her to keep the galaxy's most feared assassin at a distance. Any information he gained may certainly be used against her in the future. Trained from such an early age, pinpointing weaknesses and otherwise gathering reconnaissance was as second nature to Thane as breathing. Every observation he would ever make, was permanently locked inside that eidetic memory of his. No, someone as skilled as Sere Krios did not go off duty. The art of killing, was his way of life. Yet just as reason dictated that Shepard remain guarded with the Cerberus recommended assassin, her intuition told her otherwise.

  
She smiled to herself as she stepped off the elevator and turned towards Life Support. She preferred Thane's company to most, and he was easy on the eyes too. At the very least, he wasn't boring. Puzzling out the contradictory nature of that enigmatic drell was certainly one of the more enjoyable conundrums to consider. One nagging question still remained: _If Thane feels no remorse for his kills, then why does he seek redemption so ardently?_

 

* * *

 

Thane forced himself to sit and wait. His training had afforded him the ability to still the hands that would tremble if they had had their way. He willed his shallow breaths to come slowly and deliberately. Yes, these details of physicality he could bring into submission with a little effort, but his mind...his mind could not be reined in. _My son. I should have known Kalahira would not accept me until I have faced him._ Icy cold fear and remorse clutched at his heart.

He had hoped, that as long as his son was far removed from all of the death and isolation that followed in Thane's wake, Kolyat would be safe from his legacy. It would be better to bear the boy's hatred if it kept him away from...Thane's way of life. What's more, his son was denied a happy childhood beside his beautiful and loving mother because of his father's neglect. There was nothing Thane could ever do or say to right that, and he couldn't bring himself to face the child even after his vengeance was sated. So he kept his self-imposed banishment and simply prayed that Kolyat would take after his mother when he came of age. Irykah had been a skilled healer, a siha of the highest caliber.

  
But now, there was no denying that he had failed them both. His son had grown up a stranger to him, only to follow in his father's footsteps after all. The weight of such a fate, and knowing Irykah would be devastated to see it, crushed Thane's spirit. He had one slim chance to prevent this, if he moved quickly. And if Shepard would not agree to return to the Citadel at once, he would be forced to steal a shuttle and make his own way back there. Nothing would keep him from preventing this. _Nothing._

 

* * *

 

"You don't hire a raw rookie for a contract killing," Shepard stated simply.

"I'm afraid someone has seen we share a name and assumed we share skills. I don't know why he would accept the task."

"To be closer to you, maybe?" Shepard could hardly believe her eyes as she spoke. Thane actually appeared to be struggling with his professional composure; he was that upset.

"That thought haunts me more than any other," Thane bowed his head as he spoke.

Shepard had shivered slightly when Thane slipped into the memory of his wife's funeral. She respected his simple and forthright retelling of what must have been very painful to recall. Thane may have philosophized that his soul was not answerable for all of those assassinations, but some deeper, darker part of him took responsibility for the life he had led. And the woman he loved had paid for it in blood. _God._

Thane had lost everything, save one barren comfort: that his son was safely hidden from it all, and now that was at risk too. The commander made a concerted effort to curb her reflexive sense of pity. His words rang in her thoughts, _I don't need your help, I want it._ For once, this would be an easy decision for her. "I'll get us to the Citadel as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Shepard. I'll be meditating until you need me."

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm now aware that I've misspelled Irikah's name. But apparently I've grown attached to the mistake because I can't bring myself to correct it.


	7. An Arduous Rite of Passage

Uncle Kinloa could never understand. Kolyat hadn't seen or spoken to his father since he was a child. And even through the hot resentment of everything associated with Thane, he had to know.

_Why? Why did you leave without a word or a second thought? She went to the sea and you were just as absent as Mother. Where were you all those years before she died? Are you still alive? **What happened to my mother?** _

Now he understood. Sort of.

Determined to uncover his family's secrets, Kolyat had worked hard for years saving credits. He said goodbye to his home of ten years, -his loving aunt, his bitter but principled uncle- and Kolyat made his way to the Citadel on his own. With what little money he had left-over from the journey, he paid an information broker for any news of his father, past or present. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to be had. Only that a package left in his father's will, was arranged to be sent to Kolyat on the occasion of his death…It wasn't all that difficult convincing the volus steward that his father was dead. The round little man received a nice bonus upon safely relinquishing the package, the contents of which held more questions for the young drell than answers.

His father had been an elite assassin of the Essential Ministry of Servitors of the Compact, serving on behalf of the family since he was six years old. To join the highest rank of Servitors was a great honor and sacrifice. Any agent of the Ministry was so valuable, his or her dedication so extreme, that the Hanar exempted ten family members from service. Because of Thane, Kolyat's grandparents, his uncles and aunts on his father's side, his mother, and Kolyat himself were free of the Compact with full honors intact. He had born the stigma of living as a dissenter under his uncle’s roof, entirely ignorant of his official status all this time.

Why had no one told him? His mother had never explained. After her death, he'd gone to live with his mother's sister, Iryanah and her husband Kinloa, and they had outright refused to answer any questions about his father. He suspected now that they weren't entirely sure of what had happened either. His grandparents, Thane's parents, though they visited Kolyat often, never spoke of Thane at all.

And his uncle...Uncle Kinloa was a dissenter who believed the Compact to be a subtle form of slavery, keeping the drell forever perched as second class citizens on Kahje despite the hanar's dependence upon them. Uncle Kinloa had been one of the few called to serve the Compact who had abstained from service, but Kolyat's father had dedicated his life to the Compact.

Kolyat was not certain whether to be proud or disgusted by his father’s status. And the cryptic messages and vids his father had left him...he didn't know how to feel about those either, excepting of course his frustration at how glaringly they avoided any details of his mother's death. He had to know more.

  

* * *

"The people I work for...Look, I can't answer questions for just anybody."

"But you can for me," Thane erupted, one hand clutching Mouse's collar, the other balling into a fist at his side. "You gave another drell instructions for an assassination. Who's the target?"

"I don't know!” The young man seemed to be warring with himself. He knew Thane to be deadly, but also reasonable. Did that make him more or less dangerous than whoever he was concealing? “I didn't ask. These people, they ain't nice. I'd like to help you Krios, you always done right by us. But I ain't gonna die for you."

Thane's usual silent and efficient grace were nowhere to be found. Instead Shepard could see the blue glow of biotics beginning to emanate from his skin. She'd never seen him so enraged. It might have been for show, but Shepard couldn’t be sure that this particular drala'fa kid wasn’t about to get his head kicked in.

"We don't have time for this bullshit!" She rammed the Mouse against the wall, her elbow pressing on his tender adam's apple, more importantly, she had put herself between the kid and the infuriated assassin. "You think these people you work for are dangerous? I thought you knew who we were? This piddly little crime ring you run with will seem like acolytes of the Consort compared to Sere Krios once he starts to work on you." She stepped back again, releasing him. "But we aren't here to make your life miserable, kid. You know Thane. He wouldn't be asking if it weren't important. Do it for him."

Thane had calmed himself. "Mouse, I swear that you won't be named."

"Alright, alright! He came with that old holo you took of me. Said he wanted a job. I ran through your old contacts to see who might give him a shot. I thought you'd want me to!" Mouse dropped his head, his hand stroking his throat protectively. "The guy who offered was Elias Kelham."

"You did good, Mouse." Shepard squeezed his shoulder.

"Yeah. I hope I live long enough to pat myself on the back."

"Kelham will never know." Thane's voice had returned to its normally stoic and straightforward tone.

"I hope not." Mouse looked so young and vulnerable as he walked away, a far cry from the wheeling and dealing persona he had been using just before they approached him.

Thane hung his head. Shepard felt a little pity for him, despite herself. "That couldn't have been easy."

"Mouse knew more about my life than Kolyat ever did. _He smiles up at me, broken teeth and scabby knees, bare feet black. A dead end future looking up at me, worshiping the petty gifts I offer._ I was the only good thing he had back then. But I left him, as I left Kolyat."

"Don't blame yourself," she placated.

"If I don't, who will? We must carry the weight of our decisions, Shepard."

He was right, of course.

 

* * *

"I came to grant you peace."

Thane approached Kolyat with a few measured steps, placing himself bodily between the C-Sec officers and his son. His stance was penitent, the red blinking of sirens back lit his sorrowful visage, but his tone remained miraculously neutral. "You're angry because I wasn't there when your mother died."

"You weren't there when she was alive! Why should you be there when she died?" Kolyat folded his arms in front of him, trying to cover an overload of emotions with scorn.

"Your mother- They killed her to get to me. It was my fault.”

"What?" The young man seemed sincerely taken aback.

"After your mother was given to the deep. I went to find them. The trigger-men. The ringleaders. I…hurt them. Eventually killed them. When I went back to see you, you were...older. I should have stayed with you."

"I guess it's too bad for me you waited so long, huh?" Venom in his words. Kolyat had resumed his show of scorn, but he was trembling. 

Thane stepped still closer, his heart breaking with regret. His son had no concept of how loved he was. "Kolyat. I've taken many bad things out of the world. You're the only good thing I've ever added to it."

Tears immediately spilled down the young man's angry face as Thane lifted a hand to his shoulder.

Bailey stepped in, "This isn't a conversation you should have in front of strangers. Boys, take Kolyat and his father down to the precinct. Give them a room and as much time as they need."

 

* * *

Shepard was genuinely astonished at Bailey's approach. Any other cop would have been trying to gain control of the situation or at the very least, working to cover his own ass.

Shepard had taken all of 30 seconds to thump the kid upside the head and disarm him to keep C-Sec from intervening. If anything went wrong, she could always fall back on Spectre status. Well, probably. Her status was a little dubious of late. But Bailey was so respectful, so willing to offer assistance, he had even risked exposing himself for corruption by bringing Kelham in for them. Shepard had to admit, that if their places had been reversed, she probably would not have been as trusting and discreet. _You think he's the only man who ever screwed up raising a son?_ She was grateful for it, and she knew Thane would be too. She certainly owed the man a favor or two after this incident.

Shepard was also amazed at Thane. He had approached the whole fucked up situation with a calm, unflinchingly open demeanor, stating his failings plainly, his secrets and his regrets laid bare both for Kolyat and the audience of C-Sec officers. There were no requests for forgiveness, no excuses offered, and nothing held back. While he’d certainly been candid aboard the Normandy, trusting her to follow his courteous cues if her line of questioning became too invasive, she hadn’t expected such steadfast honesty in this setting. It was one thing to be unabashedly open when one had nothing to lose,  this dramatic incident, was another thing entirely. His willingness to face his demons and answer for his mistakes conveyed the rarest form of courage -she was a little awestruck and deeply moved by his sincerity. Thankfully, she was pretty certain Kolyat had been too.

Now she would give them a clean shot at a second chance. She'd have to see to Senator Talid, personally. If he thought he hated humans before, he was in for a surprise if he didn't prove cooperative.

"Thank you, Bailey. I'll meet you at the precinct as soon as I can."

 

 

* * *

_There will be no more secrets between us, my son. All that I remember, everything I am, will be known to you again if you wish it._

Kolyat relaxed his defenses at his father's words, if a little reluctantly. He was too hungry for answers to bother expressing his contempt. He had lapsed into memories several times as Thane answered his questions; filling in the gaps of Kolyat's understanding.

While drell may have perfect recall in regards to sensory input, memories were still subjective in regards to emotion and consciousness. Thus the memories formed from a child’s point of view, a child whose exposure to some of the more unpleasant realities in his parents’ lives had been limited by well-meaning adults, were still very confusing and incomplete, until now. Though many of those answers were no doubt as painful to speak as they were to hear, Kolyat could verify the truth in them. Finally getting direct answers to his questions combined with seeing the evidence that his father cared at all...it left the young drell feeling strangely lighter than he had in a decade, despite a future which wasn't looking terribly bright just then.

"What will happen to me now?"

"I'm not certain. The senator is a prominent politician, but Captain Bailey seems sympathetic to us and Commander Shepard holds a lot of influence here. She may vouch for you as a kindness to me. Still you shot a man and held another hostage, the consequences of such actions are never simple."

✪

Thane had been careful to keep his sub-tones neutral, his gaze steady and his dewlap from trembling throughout the ordeal. He had also refrained from lapsing fully into memories to spare his son painful extraneous details as he labored to give direct answers to anything and everything Kolyat had asked.  However, once the first few answers came, Thane found they started churning forth like the currents of Kahje.

And to his relief, Kolyat seemed to accept what he had to say. He was overcome with gratitude that his son was safe to listen at all, his innocence still intact. Kolyat was overwrought, but he would be safe. The worst was likely over, thanks to Shepard and Bailey. Now if only he could show his son how loved he was, make him understand... No, only time could do that, and Thane had so little time left to give.

Kolyat bowed his head in resignation and Thane was at a loss as to how to comfort him. If the boy could face the consequences and muster the courage to move on from all this, he had a chance to reclaim some peace in his life. He so deserved it. Too much innocence had been stolen from him and Thane's grief-stricken battle-sleep, his cowardly guilt, had only served to leach the last dregs of warmth and stability from the boy's life. Well, he would be here for him now. He reached across the table between them and took his Kolyat’s hand in his own. Thane didn't have much time, but what little was left he would give freely to his son.

 


	8. Holo Moments

"Oh come on, big guy. You had fun." Shepard gave Garrus a too-heavy pat on the back with gloved hands, creating an echoing polymer clang.

Garrus harumphed at the sizzling bits of armor which still smoked from the tiny droplets of acid-spit he’d been sprayed with. He'd just repaired this armor. "I still say it would have been better to buy the kid a few dances on Omega, but I suppose taking down a thresher maw on foot is fun too."

Shepard turned toward the burning Tuchanka sunset. "Can't say it's at the top of my list of vacation spots, but this view sure beats some of the sights we've seen lately."

Garrus hmmed in agreement. Images of Maelon's test subjects flashed through his mind once more. He knew Shepard believed the genophage was unjust, but Garrus wasn’t so sure justice had anything to do with it. It was just a sad necessity...when the krogan had such a long life-span and double sets of nearly every organ, including testicles. They could have overthrown the galaxy just as easily as the rachni, and Garrus felt no remorse over the decline of the rachni.

Although he still ***** felt uncomfortable with the salarian doctor, he had to respect Mordin’s  unapologetic logic and quick responses in the field and in the lab. Mordin could be ruthless, but always from an ethical standpoint. Garrus admired that. He was just damned glad the one-horned doctor was on their side.

His thoughts were interrupted when Shepard stepped closer in order to hook her smallish gloved hand inside the crook of his elbow. The simple gesture evoked a gentle rumbling of contented sub-harmonics. He was a little grateful the tells inherent in his biology and culture were beyond her. Even if she could feel the vibrations through her hard-suit, it was unlikely that she’d know how to interpret them.

Among turians, physical touch wasn't commonplace. That's not to say close comrades, family members, and lovers didn't touch at all. On the contrary, if there was intimacy between individuals, a hug, a caress, or a little nuzzling were generally welcomed...in private. But humans made physical contact constantly -shaking hands, patting backs, nudging elbows. So much public touching was something many turians found distasteful. ****** Garrus used to agree with that assessment once upon a time, but now, he was practically relishing human contact, and not only from Shepard. After returning from another successful mission he looked forward to a fist bump from Gardner on the way to the main battery. He even appreciated the warm squeeze on the forearm that often accompanied any first-aid from Dr. Chakwas.

But when Shepard found some reason to exchange a small touch, his heart beat a little prouder. Mandibles twittering upwards in a soft smile, he watched the last of the Aralakh sun setting below the horizon, with his closest confidante at his side.

"Battlemaster!" Grunt was beaming over Uvenk's corpse. "I'm hungry enough to eat that maw. Let's get back to Urdnot Wrex."

"Wait!" Shepard pulled Grunt over to stand next to Garrus, the last of the twilight illuminating the fallen thresher maw just behind them. "Our Grunt, all grown up along with his dashing turian sidekick -I need a holo of this moment." She quickly set her omni-tool to take the image, just in time to catch Grunt's smirk and an epic scowl from Garrus. "That was perfect boys. A real keeper."

"Sidekick, Shepard? Anyone on Omega would tell you that you really shouldn't screw with Archangel. Justice will be swift."

"I'm counting on it." She gave him another one of her little winks, before turning back toward the shelter, a swagger in her gait.

 

 

***Mordin had already cornered Garrus with a smug warning about the technical difficulties of a levo-dextro sexual liaison. What disturbed Garrus most was a single question: Under what circumstances do humans ever ingest anything during intercourse anyway!?**

****Several races on the Citadel, turians included, had generally adopted the gesture of hand-shaking in greeting a human, except for the hanar for obvious reasons.**

 

 

* * *

 

"These are for you, Kolyat." His father held out a set of clear balance globes in the palm of one hand. "One holds sand from Rakhana, the other, water from Kahje. They will help you to stay connected."

Kolyat glanced at the meditation globes disdainfully. He was in a hurry to leave for his “volunteer” work. The last civic service volunteer to arrive at C-Sec headquarters had to attend to the most undesirable duties of crime scene clean-up. "I do not follow the old superstitions. I am a Siarist," Kolyat said curtly, looking for his coat.

Thane furrowed his brow ridges. "I'm certain most Siarists would approve of meditation.” When Kolyat merely turned away to tend to the fastenings on his jacket, his father added,  “I have kept them with me for many years. They belonged to your mother."

Kolyat wasn't keen on accepting gifts from Thane. He had only begrudgingly agreed to stay in Thane’s flat near the Presidium because almost anything was better than the ramshackle immigrant group home Kolyat had arranged for when he first set out from Kahje. But he tried to keep that the limit to his father's help. He couldn’t articulate exactly why, but it was acutely important to him that he prove to Thane -and to himself- that he did not need a father. And that included refraining from the use of the word “father” too. It seemed picking at the scab of resentment which lay over the wound of his father's abandonment, was a habit not easily broken.

Still he could never resist anything connected to Mother, including whatever memories of her his father was willing to share. "Alright, I'll take them. Uh, thank you...sere."

Kolyat scrambled out of the door still buckling his coat. He was well aware that Bailey had put him on crime scene clean-up duty as punishment for his stupid attempt at joining the ranks of hitmen on the Citadel. But at least if he hurried, he could avoid scrubbing blood up for a more interesting task, like demolition of a bio-hazardous area or re-installing damaged electronics.

* * *

Relieved to be alone again, Thane began his moving repose practice. Each stance, held for the briefest of interludes before passing onto the next, connected his awareness to his body, and once fully embodied, his awareness could extend to the place of thriving where the soul resides. This was not the same practice as what he usually sought and depended on, the seeking of stillness. On the contrary, his moving repose served to replenish his energy and purpose.

In truth, living with Kolyat was very draining. Every time his son referred to him by the polite honorific, “sere,” or asked for memories of Irykah, Thane felt a little of his vitality dim and recede. He was grateful, of course, to be in the young man’s life at all. It was so much more than he deserved, but he could not deny the sting of Kolyat’s aloofness either. Kolyat only showed open enthusiasm and a willingness to connect over the subject of his mother. Everything else was met with dutiful courtesy at best, or unveiled contempt at worst.  Thane understood, and did not push for more. He simply did his best to openly share his memories of Irykah.

It was more difficult than he had anticipated. Many of the memories of her, he had all but banished himself from after her death. They were too beautiful, too joyful, too tender. Even though drell memory was composed of sensory input, and not emotion, certain combinations of remembered sights, smells, and sounds still triggered such sweet swellings of the heart, no matter how many years had passed, that he strained to resist succumbing to tu-fira. He no longer deserved to relive such pleasure, such loving solace as the sound of her singing, the expression on her face when she first beheld their son, the feel of her fingers tracing the black markings over his back. It was too merciful for one such as he, his soul would not permit it.  

So he had effectively “forgotten” many things until now. Until Kolyat began asking for specific memories. Thane would not deny him, but he found it painful and confronting to remember, while actively dissociating from much of the memory. His moving repose was nearly the only thing that kept him functionally connected, and saved him from utter despair.

 


	9. Floating Krogan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm now aware that I've misspelled Irikah's name. But apparently I've grown attached to the mistake because I can't bring myself to correct it no matter what the Mass Effect Wiki says.

Of course staying with Kolyat on the Citadel had been the right decision. Being at the end of his life, redemption in his son's eyes was the only thing that mattered. Was it not?

His efforts were not wasted. Their reconciliation was tentative, but sincere. And though he never explicitly forgave, the young drell was relaxing in his father's presence. The bitter questioning, the doubt in his tone, and most notably, the show of distance, were all gradually, but noticeably, abating. It was an honor, too, to see that the traumatized boy he left behind so many years ago had grown into a decent young man. Thane would be forever grateful to his wife's sister for that.  

Kolyat had adjusted to life on the Citadel with the blundering ease of youth. Fortunately, he was wise enough to acknowledge the generosity that Bailey had offered and kept after his unpleasant work at C-Sec with responsible contrition. Thane felt assured that after his death, Kolyat would be able to move forward with his life freely, leaving his grief and loss behind where they belonged. Irykah would be proud of him.

 _Irykah._ Thane would join her soon enough. His only love. After he had disposed of those involved in her murder, he devoted himself to making the universe a little brighter before he died. He had worked so hard to earn the right to stand beside her across the sea. Had it been enough?

Though his heart was lighter, his soul reconnected with his failing body, Thane found stillness elusive of late. Both mind and body seemed oddly charged, vigilant.

With only a quiet retirement to look forward to, Thane took frequent walks around the Presidium. He took care to note the pleasant symmetry and careful layout of the walking paths; tried to appreciate small comforts and embrace peace, but it proved fruitless. Thane found even his meditative practices were somehow more disturbing than soothing in his present state. He should have been happy to end his days quietly with the person he loved most, instead he felt restless and...decidedly unsettled.

Thoughts of Shepard nagged at him. _Another siha._ He was certain of it now. After the dramatic events of Kolyat's attempted assassination had died down, Thane reviewed the events several times.

He realized that he would not have gotten to Kolyat in time without her help. Memories of the shortest interrogation ever, for example, never failed to bring a wry smile to his lips. Additionally, he had not realized that his attempt at reasoning would be more effective as a diversion, but fortunately Shepard saw it, and did not waste the opportunity to disarm Kolyat and remove the threat of violent intervention from C-Sec forces.

But Shepard’s greatest gift, was having all charges against the boy quickly and quietly dropped. Though Thane didn't know the details, he guessed at what lengths she and Bailey had gone to, to get a xenophobic blow-hard like Senator Talid to let the incident go so easily. Later, she gracelessly accepted Thane's gratitude, then promptly waved it away again, and Thane believed he understood why.

Shepard had not deliberately planned those actions, nor had she made a conscious decision to play the hero. She had merely done what was second nature to her: assessed the situation and efficiently intervened wherever and whenever she could protect another. Whether on behalf of her crew, innocent bystanders, or even less than innocent accessories, like Mouse, she did so without the slightest hesitation, _knowing_ she would be successful despite the odds. Shepard seemed to understand her own power instinctively, whether or not she called it by the same name, Thane could see Arashu's guidance and protection inherent in everything she did.  She was a warrior angel, a divine protectoress, a fearless _siha_ through and through.

And if he analyzed his feelings with complete honesty, he must acknowledge that he had come to care for her on a personal level.  Right or wrong, despite himself, Thane longed to be fighting at her side once more.

 

He sat motionless at the window of his apartment overlooking the Presidium, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to meditate when he heard an alert beeping an incoming commcall on his omni-tool. It was Shepard. Thane accepted, and a 2D live vid popped into view from his forearm. Shepard was standing in the mess hall grinning at someone out of frame. He was surprised to catch a glimpse of Mordin passing behind her with several shot-glasses in his hand.

"Shepard? To what do I owe the honor?"

She laughed, loud and heartily. "Thane! What a way to answer the comm, that's so you!"

"I beg your pardon?"

“Ever-body say 'hi' to Thane!" Thane could hear several half-hearted mumbling words, too numerous and varied to pick up with his translator as Shepard continued unphased. "Grunt -that lil' tank-bred bastard is an adult and a full member of Clan Urdnot. So we had to throw him a ship-wide bash to celebrate. Wish you were here, Krios!"

Thane chuckled quietly to himself. He was quite certain, based on her altered speech, and the slight sway of her omni-tool camera, that Shepard was drunk. This was a side to the human commander he had not expected to see.

"We took down a thresher maw today! On foot! Nobody's done it since Wrex. I'm so proud of Grunt. (Of course Garrus and I did most of the work. But don't tell him that). And now the lil' punk thought he could out-drink me. Got a lot to learn about tryin' to out-drink a biotic. Me and Jack are the only two still standing! Well, Grunt is floating -Miranda had to put him in a singularity field, he already crushed two chairs when he fell. He's wasted! Gotta keep the big galoot from breaking my ship. But I think he's passed out now anyway. Hey Miranda! Miranda! You can prolly put him down now!" The input camera went askew at odd angles as Shepard used her omni-tool hand to wave down Miranda. Luckily, she seemed to remember that Thane was still on the line. "So how is the cushy life on the Citadel? Retire in style?"

Thane was brimming with amusement at Shepard's speedy and rather slurred speech. "Things are improving. We are talking more easily now. Kolyat was put on crime scene clean up duty at C-Sec."

Before he could go on to ask her what a galoot was, Shepard laughed vociferously again. "Oh my god!" She had to take a deep breath to try to gain control of her laughing fit. "That Bailey! I swear I could kiss that man. He's a good guy isn't he? I gotta buy him a brandy next time I come visit you in the Citadel! Hey I should prolly go. We're on our way to Omega -taking out an ardat-something tomorrow! Never fucking heard of 'em before, but they're s'posed to be really dangerous super bad-ass asari. Fuck with your mind." She pointed to her temple.

"An ardat yakshi? Shepard, they are extremely dangerous. Who is going with you? Take Samara -and be sure to allow her to guide you through meditation to prepare and to build your mental fortress." Thane was genuinely concerned. His training had warned him about the near mythic capabilities of these rare and particularly deadly asari.

"Shit. Maybe we should go the cycle after tomorrow. Hungover's not a good idea against a psychic serial killer. See that's why I miss you. Your good council and your honesty. Ship's not the same without you. You'd a made a great councilor - if you weren't already a bad-ass super-ninja."

"Who's a super-ninja?" Thane saw Joker lean into the frame. "It's that big cuddly drell! The Bruce Lee of Kahje! Hey, Thane." Joker pulled a face. "Be formless, shapeless, like water. Become the bottle, Thane. Become the kettle," he said in a solemn tone.

Kelly roared with laughter in the background. Shepard jerked her arm away from Joker. "His translator's not gonna get that shit, man!" She turned back into full view of the comm camera. "Sorry. As you can see, nothing's changed 'round here. Surrounded by insubordinate smart-asses.. That's another reason you're missed." Shepard paused, presumably to think. She belched. "We could use your sniping too that's for sure."

"Speak for yourself Shepard! Krios might be our best, what was the word Joker? Ninja? But in the sniper department, the Normandy's all around turian bad boy and dispenser of justice has got that covered." Thane heard Garrus go on to describe his head count, but he tuned him out just as Zaeed joined the bragging in order to get Shepard's attention.

"Shepard. About that ardat-yakshi-"

"Don't worry! I'll be in top form when I face 'er. Gonna wear Kasumi's lil' black dress, I've gotta be bait! Shit. I should go. Jack is writing on Jacob's face!" Shepard closed the link before Thane could say another word.

_Gods._

He knew she was intoxicated, but he suspected that even when sober, Shepard was too ignorant of the danger to give this mission the caution it deserved. He cringed at the idea and resolved to call Kasumi -only to confirm that Shepard was properly prepared.

Slumped in a corner of the mess hall, was a barely perceptible shimmer. And if anyone had been standing near enough, they might have heard the faint beep of Kasumi's omni-tool alerting her to an incoming message from the galaxy's most feared assassin. Unfortunately, the master thief was dead to the world just then.

 


	10. Kasumi's Theories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm following quite a few good stories right now. But I realized, whenever I get an update I can't always remember what was happening in the story last or sometimes I even mix up stories entirely. Then I have to go back and reread until I figure out what the hell was going on again. So I've decided, whenever I add a new chapter, I'll post a short summary of the last few chapters in the "chapter summary" space, in case any of y'all following this are having the same problems I do. ^^

Kasumi had been the first to refer to EDI as "she." This was most likely due to the feminine intonation of EDI’s human-timbre voice. After all of EDI's extensive observation of human social-linguistic tendencies, EDI quantified this personification as a signifier of bonding on Kasumi’s part. The AI assessed it as a stronger indication of “friendship” than Joker's recent inclusion of EDI into explanations of humor.

Joker had initially rejected EDI, but over time, he had grown bored enough to converse with the AI when no one else was in the cockpit, explaining and then demonstrating the finer points of provocative humor for the interested AI. But he always referred to EDI as "it" when speaking to another crew member. Kasumi, however, had consistently switched to "she."

Kasumi had managed to hack through some of the Cerberus security blocks in place in EDI's system. While she had not exactly unshackled EDI, she had given the AI more freedom on the ship as well as more access to its own computing power to be used for..."thinking." That is what Kasumi had called it when EDI explained that it often posed questions and then used data archives in combination with observation to postulate answers.

In exchange for Kasumi's help, EDI reported on the off-duty habits and activities of other crew members. Though EDI did its best to estimate which interactions would be considered too private to reveal to Kasumi, it could never be affirmatively certain. EDI also suspected that Kasumi was using evasive indirect questioning patterns to glean more information than EDI's protocol programming deemed appropriate. Nevertheless, EDI submitted willingly thanks largely to its own curiosity. Thus, EDI had taken to playing back recordings of certain interactions for Kasumi so that they could discuss contradictory and confusing behavior (such as the bantering of Donnelly and Daniels). Of this symbiotic-synthetic relationship, was born a fondness, if you will, between the mischievous "resident busy body" and the impetuous AI during their long discussions on the happenings aboard the Normandy.

"Then why are you delighted that Sere Krios has contacted you? And why did you mislead him?"

Kasumi sat in her customary pose, legs drawn up under her chin, nestled in the corner of the couch. "'Cause, EDI. My first instinct was that Shep and Thane were perfect for each other. Shep was attracted to Thane right from the start. I could tell. But Thane's so intense and reserved and I don't know that much about drell. I couldn't be sure I was reading his body language right. Now that he's calling, however... He definitely cares for her. It's not just a noble cause for him."

"You believe the commander is attracted to Sere Krios?"

"Of course! I could tell."

"How? With what evidence?"

"She never touches him."

EDI tried out her intonation programming. Stretching the second syllable to express human exasperation. "Kasumi."

Kasumi pursed her pouty lips into a small smile. "Shep's a touchy feely sort -always squeezing your shoulder for encouragement or reassurance or something. But she flat out avoids touching Thane. So, it means she's either repulsed by him or attracted to him. After you played back a few of their little talks, I was sure it wasn't repulsion. She's into him. And based on the heart rate spikes you asked about, I'd say she's got it bad."

"But the heart rate spikes occur in the presence of both Sere Krios and Garrus Vakarian."

Kasumi waggled her eyebrows. "I know."

"Is avoiding touch when you are attracted to someone a common human reaction?"

"Depends on the person. Some people avoid touch all the time. But in the commander's case, a toucher...yep. She's totally smitten, but she can't admit it to herself, so she avoids him like the plague."

"Why does she refuse to admit it to herself?"

"Because of Garrus of course!"

"In our previous discussion, you established that Garrus and Shepard were displaying courtship behavior. That their plan to consummate casual sexual liaisons for stress relief had become more romantic than their original intent."

"That's right, EDI."

"Aren't human females generally monogamous?"

"That depends too. But yes, I think Shep's a one-man kind of woman. Hence her avoidance of Thane."

"How can she be attracted to two men if she is monogamous?"

"Attraction, love, and all kinds of human emotions are beyond our control most of the time. We only have a choice in how we react to our emotions. Shep's got it for Thane, but she already cares for Garrus. So..."

"So are the heart rate spikes the result of involuntary physical symptoms of sexual attraction or emotional reactions to the experience of sexual attraction?"

Kasumi unclasped her hands and stretched her legs out with feline grace on the couch. "Probably both, more or less. It could be the sexual attraction itself or just stress from unwanted unexpected emotions, or anticipation or even fear -not knowing if the other person reciprocates. But the real thrill isn't just sexual attraction, it's love. Sexual attraction gets mixed up with love and that's a whole other can of worms for our heroes. It's complicated."

"Wouldn't your lie to Sere Krios further complicate matters then?"

"I didn't lie!"

"You misled him."

"It was half true."

"This may endanger the mission."

Kasumi shook her head. "Don't be silly. Thane knows stealth as well as I do. And he's a well trained killer. He'll be helpful if he shows up. And if he's as in love with Shep as I think he is, he won't hesitate to come gallantly to her side."

EDI recognized the logic in Kasumi's plan, but the breach in protocol and the misleading call seemed unnecessary and inefficient. "Why not explain your belief in the commander's attraction to him?"

"EDI, when it comes to love, everyone is a big scaredy-cat. A rescue, he can justify, a budding relationship, he'll reason himself out of. Trust me, EDI. It'll help Shep in more ways than one. And besides...LOVE TRIANGLE! You don't get a better example of entertaining human interaction than that!"

"Except this triangle is shared by two non-humans."

"Even more fun, don't you think?"

EDI "thought" about what Kasumi had said, reviewing the recorded interactions between the three said crewmen. "Please verify. You believe Shepard is ‘smitten’ with Sere Krios as evidenced by her uncharacteristic avoidance of touch, caused by her unwillingness to admit the attraction to herself because she had already committed to a ‘friends with benefits’ social interaction with Garrus.” EDI paused for visual confirmation from Kasumi via affirmative gesturing. “You were not certain about Sere Krio's feelings towards the commander, especially given that he left the crew to stay with his son, until he called concerned for her safety. Now you have set up a sort of test to confirm your suspicion that he is in love with the commander. Meanwhile, the relationship between Garrus Vakarian and the commander appears to be growing more romantic than their original intent. So you also plan to test whether or not Garrus's feelings for Shepard are ‘true’ by gauging his reaction to Sere Krio's presence aboard the Normandy.” The soft mischievous twitch of Kasumi’s lips corroborated EDI’s  assessment so far. “All three organics have displayed reservations about the current state of their relationships because most beings are ‘big scaredy-cats’ when it comes to the complicated emotional implications of love, so your final goal is to create a scenario where they will be forced to confront their emotions?"

"Yep. Good summation, EDI."

"How does any of this help the commander?"

"Oh EDI. Every woman deserves to know her one true love before she dies. My life would have been dreadfully incomplete if I'd never met Keiji. I'm just making sure Shep knows -and appreciates- hers fully. And besides...it's fun."

 

* * *

 

Shepard awoke breathless. She often felt uncomfortable when she slept with the skylight over her bed open to the star-filled view outside the ship. It used to be a view that inspired peace and not a little awe. Now she refused to let the foreboding pooling in her gut, take that away from her. Still, her stubborn refusal to close the skylight often led to an abrupt awakening like this.

The nightmare was fading and she let it. She didn't really want to know.

Usually, like any good battle-hardened marine, she knew how to get sleep anywhere, despite the circumstances. She'd even dozed while standing aboard shuttles. Insomnia and other issues of the psyche, were too costly a luxury for a good commander. You had to deal with them before they deal with you. She'd seen too many good soldiers lost to the symptoms of PTSD. They refused to admit there was anything wrong, and then they either blew their top and got discharged or faded away inside a bottle. Kelly was nice, but Shepard couldn't bring herself to confide in a Cerberus shrink, so she was careful to check in with Chakwas if she was losing too much sleep. The gracious doctor often lent an ear or a mild sedative or both if the Commander needed them. And it generally did the trick.

But sometimes, Shepard's subconscious still reared up and slapped her around some, just the same. She sighed.

"EDI, is Garrus up?"

 

* * *

 

The night cycle had nearly ended and Shepard was glad to see Sgt. Gardner was in the mess early. He made much better coffee than she did. She entered the Main Battery with a cup of the dextro sludge for Garrus and a decent powdered-milk latte for herself.

"Have trouble sleeping?"

No use pretending everything was peachy with Garrus. "Yeah sometimes."

"Did you see Chakwas?"

"Of course!" Shepard didn't like giving any of the crew cause to doubt her fitness. It made her a bit defensive. "You know I take damn good care of myself. There'll be no unnecessary mistakes because I've forced myself past the limits of fatigue. And I expect the same of my crew. There's no room for martyrs aboard this ship."

"Says the commander leading another suicide mission." His good mandible twitched amusement to see her bristle at his quip. "So what's the problem?"

"It's nothing." She took a sip to stall. Knowing Garrus wouldn't let her get away with a token response like that, she made up her mind to come out with it. "I can't remember dying. Well, not exactly.  I remember the environmental systems were down and there were too many electrical fires to contain.  Alenko and I were both in full enviro hardsuits so I ordered him to get everyone into the escape pods while I went for Joker. Half of the Normandy was already ripped open by the time I got to the cockpit, the dumbass still thought he could save her.” Shepard winced a little. She felt a little hypocritical about Joker when she might have had the same instincts. “Anyway, we almost made it to the pod, but they were coming around to hit us again, so I threw Joker in. I had on a full suit, he only had an oxygen mask. I would have joined him but I was interrupted by a particle beam. I could only just reach the control for the door. I clearly remember the horror on his face as that door sealed shut." She took another sip, posturing for a nonchalance she didn't feel. "And then...an explosion? A flash? I don't remember and I don't want to. I tell myself to let it go. Let it go. I was spaced - it's every naval officer's nightmare- and my mind has blanked it out. It's better that way. Seriously, what good would it do anyone to remember those details?" She kept her eyes firmly on her coffee mug, lowering her tone just barely above a whisper. "But sometimes, it slams into my dreams -a creepy, ice-cold sense of panic, the crushing inability to breathe, helplessness...it doesn't happen all the time, but it's enough that when it does, I don't want to go back to sleep."

When she looked up into his face again, she regretted having said anything immediately. Garrus looked horrified. "I'm sorry Garrus. I probably shouldn't have told you that."

Garrus blinked deliberately and forced himself to relax his face again. There was that old familiar disgust brewing in his thorax again. No one should ever have to die like that, especially her. But she didn't need his raging indignation at the injustice of it right now. She needed something he wasn't sure how to give. "No-no, it's not...No. You can always come to me Shepard...I just wish I knew how to comfort you."

He was rewarded with a soft, but genuine smile. "You are comforting me, big guy."

She looked strangely fragile and beautiful. Had she always looked like that? He hadn't noticed before, but his heart swelled with noticing it now. As she gulped down the last of her coffee, he set his "sludge" down and jerked her forward into a hug. Crushing her close, the bizarre but familiar smell of her hair in his nostrils, the softness of her unplated muscular flesh under his talons. It was such an unbelievable relief to feel her presence, bodily, tangibly, alive and well.

After a brief moment, she broke the spell. "Uh, Garrus? Your armor is pressing into my throat."

"Oh sorry. I-" He released her immediately.

"No I needed a hug." She interrupted him. "Thank you. We should just try it without armor some time, eh?"

She stroked the good side of his face with warm fingers, straining to hear or feel the rumbling of his subharmonics. She wished she could hear it as he did, though she could read volumes in his eyes, glittering cool blue...

"I should go." She turned on her heel and exited the battery without another word, leaving Garrus to wonder where he'd gone wrong.

The urgency with which she felt the need to leave surprised her as much as him. Why was she so compelled to... _to flee? What the fuck, commander? You shied away like a damned twitchy space hamster!_ On one hand, she had honestly hoped he'd start taking a little initiative. Up until then, it had always been she who had instigated affection. But now that he was breaking from their usual routine of camaraderie through banter, now that he was reaching out to her in earnest, on more affectionate terms...she just plain chickened out. Was she that much of a control freak? Was it the interspecies thing? The commander thing? _What the hell has gotten into me?_


	11. Damsels?

Shepard had stalled this narcissistic nut-job as long as she could. _Where the hell is Samara?_

Morinth blinked, and her eyes had turned as black and expansive as the vacuum of space. "Look into my eyes, and tell me you want me. Tell me you'd kill for me. Anything I want."

Shepard could feel the electric tendrils of Morinth's will trying to force entry into her psyche. She had intended to keep up the ruse of the willing victim, but the urge to physically -violently- shut Morinth out was overwhelming. The asari's dark psychic energy prying into Shepard's mind felt crushingly violating, like the callous tugging and tearing at her clothes by a rapist. Her will screamed in protest but she forced her countenance and body posture to remain submissive in appearance.

"Anything you want." She had only just managed to utter the words, her breath coming heavier and her heart rate increasing. Shepard felt an agonizingly sharp tingling ache gathering in her loins, and her breasts were heaving with each breath. She could feel the buzzing current of her own biotics flaring in response to her restraint, though she was unsure  if it was the desire or the rage that threatened release more. She couldn't keep this up much longer, either she'd give in to the prodding energy or be forced to lash out in defense soon. Fortunately, she wouldn't need to.

In a blur of green and black, she was instantly wrenched free of Morinth's magnetic gaze.  Thane leapt upon the asari from the rafters above,  pulling her hair tentacles back with one hand, and creating a choke-hold with his free arm. Driving his knee into the center of her back, he slammed Morinth face-first onto the floor,  but before he could shift to reach the pressure points he knew would immobilize her completely, a powerful biotic throw sent them both crashing into the ceiling. He lost his grip on her in the force of the bruising crash. He recovered quickly however, drawing his gun though he landed somewhat clumsily.

"Morinth!" His aim was interrupted when Samara plastered the ardat yakshi to the window with a biotic throw, cracking the thick bullet-proof glass with the force of it.

"Mother."

"Do not call me that!"

Morinth sneered. "I can't choose to stop being your daughter, _Mother."_

Thane moved to Shepard who was still recovering from the effects of the psychic attack on the sofa. "Shepard, are you alright?"

"Thane? Damn it's good to see you!" She was interrupted by the sofa struggling to hover along with the other objects which were being sucked into a biotic undertow of dangerous destructive potential. Both asari were dead-locked in a biotic duel. "I'm okay. Think you can help Samara out with this one?"

"Take cover." Thane rolled behind Morinth, ignoring the pain in his neck and shoulders.

Morinth was pleading with Shepard, "I am as strong as she is. Let me join you!" Thane winced to think what her pleas were doing to her mother. He pulled her arms up behind her head, giving Samara the opportunity she needed to finish the duel.

When it was done, Shepard moved towards Samara, but Thane stopped her with a light tug of the arm and a slight shake of his head.

"I am ready to leave this place and move on with my life." Sadness permeated the justicar's usually serene and emotionless voice.

Silently heeding his advice, Shepard briefly squeezed the justicar's arm, "Alright, let's go," and said nothing further.

 

* * *

The taxi ride back to the Omega docking bay, was thick with silence. Thane's heart ached for Samara; he didn't want to imagine how she must have felt. Kolyat had, after all, intended to become a killer as well.  _Thank blessed Arashu that a siha intervened before Kolyat had gone far on the wrong path._

He looked at Shepard again. He hadn't consciously noted her uncharacteristic appearance before now. She had painted her eyes and lips and worn a revealing black leather dress. Much of her exotically smooth human skin was on display, as were the myriad of scars that lined it. If he had seen her in this attire in his younger days, he would have found her enticing, but now, it simply didn't suit her. Perhaps it was the weariness lingering in her eyes or the way she carried herself in general that made her look so...so vulgar dressed this way. To Thane, Shepard looked most beautiful when she was in her natural element: that of fierce righteousness, or earnest assessment or...well, he didn't pretend to know all there was to his siha, but the petty dance of flirtatious fashion was certainly _not_ her element.

"We hadn't expected to see you Krios, but thanks. I appreciate your assistance."  While he didn’t directly question her sincerity, the professionally distant tone and the stiffness in her posture alerted him to her holding something back. He answered her with his customary tilt of the head. After another minute, she went on,  "I apologize if my call worried you...I was foolish and indiscreet. It was a stupid risk to speak of pending missions over the comm, it won't happen again." She looked to Samara as she spoke the last four words.

_Ah, so she feels embarrassed. She needn't be._ "Apology accepted Siha, though it is unnecessary. I was glad to come."

"Siha?"

A slip of the tongue he wasn't prepared to reveal yet, if at all. He changed the subject. "Shepard, if you'll have me, I'd like to rejoin the crew."

"We could certainly use you, Thane."

He felt a surprising satisfaction that his request had inspired a switch from "Krios" to "Thane" so swiftly.

"Make sure you have your injuries checked by Chakwas as soon as we get back. I'm sure the doctor will be glad to see you. And Life Support is all yours again." She smiled openly, keeping her eyes fixed warmly on his for a little longer than was necessary. "Welcome back."

* * *

"Thane!" Kasumi appeared delighted to see him. "Fancy seeing you here." She continued, utterly undaunted by the solemn look of disapproval Thane was flashing her. "I see Shep's back in one piece, so it must have gone well. Tell me, how did she react when she saw you?"

He shifted his weight smoothly. The glistening in her eyes contrasted heavily under the shadow of her hood and her lips were upturned in perfect synchronicity with her eyes. Was this a game to her? The busy little thief enjoyed stealing information as much as anything else. Had she lied deliberately or just been misinformed? Rather than confronting her, he decided to try a different tact. "May I share a memory with you?"

The lovely Ms. Goto nodded encouragingly.

_"The ardat yakshi stands alone, preening in the mirror, unaware of my presence. I have already disarmed her alarms and sabotaged her escape routes. I am tempted to kill her now. It would be relatively simple to leap down and snap her neck before she has a chance to charge her biotics. But Kasumi said Shepard planned to bring Morinth in alive. She would have a good reason for doing so. Shepard always has a good reason._ "

"And then?"

"Shepard had never planned to bring Morinth alive. She has been through a harrowing ordeal, not to mention what Samara has just endured, and it all could have been prevented had I killed Morinth when I had the opportunity. Two great women suffer unnecessarily."

"But would you have come if there hadn't been a damsel in distress?"

"I beg your pardon?" His translator did not recognize "damsel" but he suspected that Kasumi had deliberately misled him.

Kasumi, lowered her chin to rest on her knees. "Why did you come, Thane?"

"I was concerned for Shepard's safety."

"Has she ever been unprepared? Ever had any problem handling it when anything and everything goes wrong?"

He didn't reply, feeling a little chastened for having doubted the commander.

Kasumi appeared both kindly and smug at the same time. "You wanted to come, you just needed a reason. So I gave you one."

Her words hung in the air between them. He couldn't deny it was true. But it was unsettling that this clever meddlesome human could read him so easily.

She broke the silence. "You're welcome?"

He lowered his brow ridges and puffed up his chest. "I will concede your point, Ms. Goto, if you promise on your honor never to deceive me again."

The thief raised her right hand. "Cross my heart and hope to die. Now, why did you come, really?"

He should return to life support immediately if he wanted to leave with any dignity intact. But, the leading questions intrigued him. He was surprised at this strange impetuous young woman. She already knew more of his own motives than he had been prepared to admit to himself. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh come on! You had the opportunity to retire peacefully with your family.  But you couldn't stay away could you? Was it only to rescue a friend in danger? To repay an obligation? Or was there something else? I'll bet Shep was glad to see you again. Are you staying on?"

"Yes, I will stay now."

"Because?"

It wasn’t often anyone could rattle him so. "I-retirement didn't suit me. And Kolyat... _He bows his head. Sighs. 'Father, what are you trying to prove?' I am touched to hear him call me that. ‘What was your intention? You planning to babysit me until you're so ill that I must return the favor?'_

_“I don't want him to misunderstand. 'I failed you before, I will not repeat the same mistake,' I tell him._

_“He raises his head. 'You're not failing me anymore.'_

_“I blink back a single tear. He offers more than I deserve. 'I will stay in contact regularly.'_

_“He smiles, 'I know.'_ "

"Wow! Good for Kolyat."

"Yes. I am proud of him." Thane hadn't meant to slip into that memory. He wasn't sure he approved of Kasumi’s having witnessed it, but he used the opportunity to distract her from her line of questioning. "Bailey has offered to sponsor his training to join C-Sec. He believes Kolyat has the makings of a good detective."

"Hm, Kolyat a dashing young officer. How delightful! But we still haven't established why you were so restless, have we?"

This time Thane suppressed the urge to shift his weight. "If you don't mind, Ms. Goto, I think it is time I rested. Thank you for...I'm not sure what for." He turned to leave.

"She likes you, you know."

He paused briefly at her words, but exited anyway.


	12. A Social Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Casualties:  
> Thane was granted permission to back out of the collector's mission so he could stay with Kolyat. But regret and restlessness nagged at him as he realized, upon reviewing memories, that Shepard was probably a siha. 
> 
> The crew threw Grunt a coming of age party to celebrate his victory over the thresher maw. Shenanigans ensued. Shep drunk-dialed Thane and mentioned her preparations for baiting the ardat-yakshi. Thane was concerned that she wasn't properly prepared for such a dangerous mission. He called Kasumi to get the full scoop. 
> 
> Thanks to Kasumi's misdirection, Thane tracked down the ardat-yakshi in case Shepard should need help apprehending her. After aiding both Shepard and Samara, he asked to rejoin her crew. 
> 
> He confronted Kasumi, with...charming, if unexpected, results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've attempted to leave Shepard's appearance ambiguous. I'm curious if my solution to that problem works. Feel free to give your opinion on that. Also does anyone know how to get Spanish characters to work? I can't get my enye to show up

 Mentally exhausted from her encounter with Samara's creepy serial killing daughter, Shepard was too drained to focus on anything productive. After a quick shower she tried sleeping, but all she could manage was to stare out her skylight, discomfited. She was definitely too tired to be restless exactly, it was more like listlessness that was plaguing her now. She needed some company to distract her. Someone who didn't need or expect much from her. Someone with whom she could relax into effortless conversation.

 Her first thought was to message Garrus, but she changed her mind. A visit with him would require too much energy given her awkward and abrupt behavior last night. No, she wasn't up for dealing with that just now. Jack, Grunt, Zaeed, and even Joker were all too abrasive for her tonight. Disturbing Samara was unthinkable, and Miranda and Jacob were too bitchy. Mordin was too energetic and Dr. Chakwas would be in her sleep cycle. That left Kasumi or Thane. After considering the mischief Kasumi could get up to in her private quarters, Shepard's mind was made up.

 "EDI please invite Thane up to my quarters. Emphasize that this is a casual invitation and not an obligation."

 Shepard was pleased when EDI informed her that Thane had accepted and would arrive shortly. His return to her crew had been an unexpected relief. She realized that she felt safer knowing he was on her team again, that she trusted him, and that she was too spent to question why. So she merely acquiesced to the consolation of it without question.

 

 

* * *

"You called?" Thane stood at the top of the steps in his version of an 'at-ease' pose, hands clasped behind his back.

"No, I invited. It's just a social call. Please make yourself comfortable." She gestured to the sofa as she stood to go to her desk. "Want some tea? I'm making myself one."

"Thank you. Of the Earth varieties, I've tried Earl Grey and peppermint. I don't care for peppermint."

"Then something new? I think chamomile will do us both some good."

Thane nodded his agreement. He scanned her quarters, taking note of the details before sitting down on the sofa.

Shepard waited silently for the self-heating kettle, dunked the tea bags in the boiling hot water and unceremoniously set both mugs, still steeping, on the coffee table. She then sat back on the sofa with an easy sigh, tilting her head back against the bulkhead behind her, eyes closed.

Thane felt gratified by her nonchalant display of trust. Few who knew Thane for the experienced killer he was, would sit before him with their throat so exposed. His eyes hungrily took in the contours of the impossibly smooth human skin, stretched over the faint blue lines of her veins. _How strange to have skin so fine you can see the circulatory system beneath._

"Shepard?"

She roused herself. "Yes?" Apparently just having someone to sit with was already doing the trick. She'd nearly forgotten he was there. "Sorry. I get burnt out sometimes. There's so much to do: intel, strategies, implications...stuff to consider." She brought her hand to her forehead, rubbing her right temple with her thumb. "I'm usually up here, accomplishing something useful or at least trying to get some sleep." She paused for a long breath, as if talking wasn't worth the effort. "And then that thing, that ordeal with Morinth..." She winced a little at the memory. "That was a doozy." She let her hand drop again, and gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Anyway I realized I can't force myself to be productive. I can barely even think straight, and believe it or not, I'm too tired to sleep. So I thought I'd just..." She sighed softly. "I thought I could use some of your tranquility, if you don't mind."

"Not at all, I am pleased that you have sought my company. Although, I could teach you some meditative techniques which may be useful in the future."

"Not tonight, thanks. I'd rather just talk, if that's alright." She sipped her tea expectantly.

"What would you like to discuss?"

"Anything. The less important the better. Hell, tell me a story if you like."

Thane blinked both sets of eyelids and tilted his head. "A story?"

"Sure. Or share a memory perhaps? I like the sound of your voice. I find it...soothing."

Thane sipped his tea using both hands, effectively using the mug as a shield to hide the unwelcome warmth that threatened to darken his throat.* Given his attraction to her, it seemed unwise to start phasing into and out of memories. He couldn't always control which ones surfaced. He fumbled for a benign topic instead. "What is this music you're playing?" Her instantaneous smile told him he’d chosen a subject she enjoyed.

"It's jazz. This particular recording is by a long-dead human, Miles Davis. Do you like it?"

"It is pleasant."

"I love music. I often use it to set the tone when I need to focus, y'know? But tonight, I just wanted to listen for the sake of it. And in my heart of hearts, I have a real weakness for melancholy tunes."

Thane was pleased  to witness this inconsequential, personal side of Shepard. It was endearing that she would share it with him. "I understand. I sometimes recall the bells in the temple of Arashu. The vibrations ringing through my chest. The harmonious resonance of the throat singers." Thane struggled not to delve into memory, Irykah had been a talented throat singer. "Such music has the power to alter one's conscious state. This Miles Davis is distinctive and resonates in a similar way."

Shepard savored the flavor of her tea. "EDI, please send a copy of my jazz collection to Sere Krios." She turned back to face him. "Be warned, not all of it is as subdued as this song. Jazz is generally experimental, it likes to play with rhythm and texture. I've expanded my collection with a wide array of music that fits the bill, from several systems, so you might not find all of it as appealing."

Thane acknowledged the blinking on his omni-tool alerting him to a pending download from the Normandy. "Thank you EDI. I'm sure I will find it enlightening."

They listened companionably for a time, sipping tea. Thane was again grateful for his eidetic memory. He might have been tempted to stare at her. The delicate hairs which framed her eyes, the graceful athletic line of her posture, the exotic scent of soap and damp hair he tasted in the air of her cabin now in contrast to the aroma of fried heat sinks, medigel and charred polymer which usually accompanied the commander. Her eyes were so much more subdued than usual, the fire of purpose banked and set aside. It's replacement was an accepting countenance, receptive, placid...beautiful. It was fortunate that he could rely on a quick sweep of his awareness instead, knowing he could examine it all again privately in his cabin later on.

After a time, she asked politely, "How are things going with Kolyat?"

"It was difficult at first. All things worth keeping are. But he is mature for his years and more empathetic than I deserve. There is reason to hope." He paused reflectively. "Hope. It is a feeling I had forgotten, in my battlesleep."

Shepard couldn't help but chuckle, "Drell are capable of forgetting?"

One corner of his lips turned slightly upwards. "Indeed, we can forget subjective thoughts and emotions even when the objective, sensory details are otherwise fastened in our minds." He paused to look at her meaningfully, eyes glistening with intent. "Thank you, Siha. It has been long since I've had reason to hope."

Shepard shifted uncomfortably, searching her mind for a gracious response. _Relax. Gratitude is not a challenge to your humility._ "You're welcome, Thane." She forced herself to meet his gaze for what seemed, to her, like a long time. She could get lost in those large, dark vessels of- "You know, I didn't really do much,” she cut off her previous line of thought instinctively.  “It was just a matter of giving you two the space you needed to...remind each other I guess."

He fluttered his under-eyelids rapidly before his outer set caught up. "Remind each other?"

Released from the pull of his gaze, she found it easier to reply. "Yes, both of you. You were wrong," she stated simply.

When he didn't respond, she elaborated, "Kolyat believed you had left because you didn't care what happened to him, didn't love him, when actually your reasoning was the opposite. You loved him, so you felt you had to leave to protect him. You believed your skills, your training, were all you had to offer the universe. So you were willing to bear his scorn, thinking he was better off, than to respect his father's influence." Her eyes focused on an unknown point of distance, as if merely musing an interesting point rather than laying his regrets bare. "It's easy to see why. The sacrifice it must have been for your family to give you up at such a tender age; all that time and effort the hanar invested  into your training...Your striving to be everything they hoped you would be was only logical." She glanced down at her hands. "So even after your wife showed you there was more to life, even after the hanar released you from service, you still returned to it. As you put it, you had no other skills. Your training, your artistry in the hunt, were too intertwined with your identity by then." She paused for another sip of tea. "And once your wife was -er, gone to the sea, there was nothing left to remind you that your skills, while truly remarkable, are merely a part of you. Irykah didn't marry a bad-ass master assassin; she married Thane Krios, a good and honorable man.

"And poor Kolyat," she shook her head sympathetically. "I hope it’s easier for him now. Now that you've explained. Now that you’ve shown him how much you loved them both... He could never be better off without you in his life." Again her tone was neutral, a statement of simple fact, as though it were obvious.

Thane sat blinking at her, lips parted to speak, but the words were caught in his throat. After years of struggling with the guilt and loss his failures had brought him, to hear this strange human siha deconstruct everything so simply...It was too much to process. He lowered his brow-ridges in consternation. He didn't know if he should feel liberated or ashamed. Of the few living beings who knew who and what he was, he was grateful that this siha had not only come to trust him, but had endeavored to understand him. Not since his wife, a healer, a relentless protectoress in the old practice of the temple of Arashu, had anyone made an attempt. It was unexpected that this fierce, alien warrior angel could be capable of such healing as well.

Shepard looked back down at her mug when she noticed tears surfacing in those beautiful eyes of his. She inhaled sharply. She sputtered an awkward apology, "Sorry. Never have been known for much grace or tact. The point is, it's good you're both seeing the truth of it now." _God, why couldn't I have just stopped at "You're welcome," and left it at that?_

Thane moved to kneel in front of her, his eyes lowered reverently, "Siha-"

"You know,” Shepard was quick to interrupt him,  “I didn't mean to go off into some weird monologue like that. What do you say we just change the subject, huh?" Shepard tried to lighten her tone, but she avoided looking at him. She hadn't meant to open up all of his old wounds. Even so, a small part of her was defiantly proud to have told him she recognized in him more than a super-ninja of an assassin, to have declared, out loud, that he was a good man. She knew he believed he deserved death, and it was gratifying to firmly state that the opposite was true. To her relief, Thane rose up to sit beside her again, though it was just a hair closer than before.

Thane pushed his emotions back down. There would be time to consider all of this as he reviewed his memories later. She had invited him here to soothe her. _Now is not the time for confessions._ "If you wish." He picked up his mug again, savoring the aroma once more though the tea was nearly cool now. “May I ask you a question, Siha?"

"Only if you explain what the hell a ‘siha’ is. You're calling me that exclusively now."

"I will explain another time, you crave lighter subjects correct?"

She repressed her curiosity. "Yes, please."

"How is it, that your eyes change color?"

Shepard laughed at the unexpected turn in the conversation and then sputtered as she attempted to clear the tea from her windpipe. She dabbed at her mouth with the back of her hand. "Surely you've seen hazel eyes before?"

"I've seen a variety of eye colors in humans and other species, but I'm not familiar with the term, 'hazel'."

Shepard cleared her throat once more. "It's...it just means that the iris, the part that holds the color pigments, is multi-colored. Hazel eyes don't change color. It's an illusion. Instead outside variables, like the color of my clothes bring out a certain layer of color in my irises. For instance, in the aquarium's blue glow, I'd guess my eyes look kind of blue right now."

Thane leaned in a little closer, presumably to inspect the color of her eyes, but that wasn't his intent. He had already noted the lovely shade her eyes had taken upon first entering her quarters. No, now he simply couldn't resist the opportunity to examine her in close proximity for something else: a sign. "Indeed, they do. And what of your hair? Is that change an illusion as well?"

Shepard slumped forward erupting in a fresh bout of laughter. "Ha! You know damned well it isn't!" The tension habitually held in her shoulders, dispersed a little with each mirthful shudder. She shook her head with a smile. "A soldier's life revolves around efficiency and practicality. I've spent most of my life in either fatigues, a dress uniform, or combat armor. I've never had the time nor occasion to invest in any other sort of fashion, or make-up or whatever, so I compensate my vanity by changing my hairstyle every few weeks. I still have to keep it simple enough to manage with my helmet, but a good dye job doesn't require daily maintenance, thank god and...it boosts my morale."

Thane's lips pulled upward in a rare, devilish little smile. "I see. It is healthy to maintain something of your obstinate preening airs. It reminds the crew that their legendary commander is still female underneath her ferocity."

Shepard slapped Thane's thigh in feigned indignation. "You smug bastard! For most species on Earth, it's usually the males doing the preening, humans are a bit of an anomaly, and I'll bet that holds true for a hell of a lot of other species as well!"

"Perhaps," he conceded. "This current configuration suits you, Siha. May I touch it?"

"My hair? You want to touch my hair?"

 _There it is_. She stiffened slightly, her breath catching a little before increasing its pace, along with the quickening thud of her heart. He anticipated the taste of pheromones in the air which were soon to follow her initial reaction. He knew what that meant in human women. He'd learned early on that many attractive drell features were easily translatable as desirable to humans as well. He'd used that to his advantage on a few occasions while stalking and hunting his targets in the past. And Shepard was exhibiting the same signals now. His heart swelled with relief.

Shepard hesitated a moment, but then reached up to remove the small hair clip which held her hair in a plain, serviceable twist at the back of her scalp. Wavy, longish locks, still a little heavy with damp fell down the nape of her neck. She ruffled her scalp a little to loosen the tendrils, and then pulled them forward over her shoulder, presenting them to the hauntingly beautiful drell sitting beside her.

He leaned closer still, generously inhaling the pleasant scent emanating from her loosened hair. He reached up to twist a few silken strands over his fused fingers. She shuddered slightly at the sound of a low purr rumbling from his chest and into his throat. She closed her eyes and smiled to herself.

 _Holy shit!_ She stood abruptly; breaking the spell. She stepped away from him, trying to maintain a casual composure, as if inspecting the fish in her aquarium was a perfectly natural thing to do at that moment. _Diffuse with humor. Quick!_ "Sere Krios, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were flirting with a superior officer! That can have serious repercussions, senor." _Ugh._ She'd tried for a tone of playful irony and ended up sounding more like a humorless schoolmarm given to stating the obvious.

Over her right shoulder, in the reflection of the glass, she saw him approach behind her. Though standing at a respectful distance, there was still amusement in his expression. _Is he enjoying my distress?_ She found it a little disorienting to discover that the stoic assassin had a mischievous sense of humor. But she couldn't resist being pleased to see it, despite herself.

Thanks to a nearly infallible memory, drell were not usually given to bouts of self-doubt. If they made a mistake, they could always go back and investigate what had gone wrong and change accordingly. Thane Krios, being a well-trained and meticulous observer, was even more confident than most. He was certain he had read desire and fondness in Shepard's body language, even if she was jostled by the idea once she became aware of it. So it was without apprehension that he looked directly into her eyes, through the reflection, and asked, "Will you hear my confession, Siha?"

 

 

* * *

 

*Drell blushing can only be seen via the dewlap, or flap of extendable skin, at the throat. The smooth scaly skin which covers most of the rest of their bodies is too thick to reveal the rush of blood so easily detectable in most humans.

 

 


	13. A First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Casualties:
> 
> Thanks to Kasumi's misdirection, Thane tracked down the ardat-yakshi in case Shepard should need help apprehending her. After aiding both Shepard and Samara, he asked to rejoin her crew.
> 
> He confronted Kasumi, with...charming, if unexpected, results.
> 
> Mentally exhausted from the encounter with Morinth, yet unable to sleep, Shep invited Thane up for a social call. They chatted at first, but after Thane received the "sign" he'd been looking for, he made his move. Shep caught on a little late and found herself in an embarrassing predicament. 
> 
> Now he was asking her if she'd "hear his confession."

Shepard kept her back to him, meeting his eyes only through the reflection of the dimmed aquarium glass. She found herself desperate for the illusion of distance. She'd been vaguely aware of a benign attraction to him before, but had been convinced that it would come to nothing. The stoic drell was too wrapped up in grief and sorrow to ever notice anything outside his pursuit of redemption anyway -or so she'd thought. But now, the way he was looking at her with those liquid black eyes, the power of his presence as he'd leaned close, the resonance of his voice as he said that word _-siha-_ it was all so...seductive. Outraged at herself, she was at a loss as for what to do about it. And Shepard hated nothing more than being at a loss.

Still holding her gaze through the reflection, the assassin began his confession. "Once I'd eliminated Irykah's killers, I had no goal. I accepted the Dantius commission because I didn't know what else to do...looking back now, it's clear I'd resigned myself to death. I would have fulfilled my contract. If Nassana's guards caught me afterwards, it would have been been a good death. But someone else was pushing me to reach the target, forcing me to move faster, challenging me. I had to reach her first."

"You'd planned to die in there? I'm glad we got to you when we did." The confession shouldn’t have been surprising, but Shepard was appalled at the idea of his succumbing to Nassana’s guards. _Why? It’s not much different from what I’m asking him to do now._

"It wasn't a plan, my body had accepted its death. My mind had been dead a long time." He stepped closer. "But I met another siha. Few are privileged to meet even one."

She was curious, despite herself. "You still haven't told me what a siha is."

"One of the warrior angels of the goddess Arashu -fierce her wrath, a tenacious protector."

Shepard was touched by his sincerity. He'd been calling her "siha" since he'd returned to the Normandy. Perhaps it was ego, but she found the title strangely suitable.

Motionless, her heart pounding, she watched him closing in through the reflection. Still staring intently into her eyes, he said, "I confess, I've come to care for you."

Abruptly, she turned to face him, extending her right arm to stop his approach. She realized too late that her hand was now pressed to the bared square of flesh his leathers revealed. His scales were remarkably smooth and cool to the touch. _Garrus Garrus Garrus._ She repeated the name like a mantra, protecting herself against her own treacherous heart. Trapped in Thane's eyes, she stood frozen. No words came. For an impossibly long moment, she stood full of self-loathing, unable either to reject, or accept him. 

Shepard felt his chest rise and fall with a faint sigh. "Someone is approaching." He stepped away from her just as she heard the elevator doors swish open outside her cabin door.

Released from the impossible gravitational pull of his eyes, she shut her own and exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. _Thank god._ Relief spread over her as thoroughly and absolutely as a decon scanning laser. When she opened her eyes again, Thane was sitting on the sofa just as if the previous five minutes had never occurred.

The doors swept open and Garrus waltzed in carrying a bottle and a smirk. He reached down and took one hand in his talon. "Despite the gross discrepancy in Cerberus pay for the lowly turian mercs, I've managed to dredge up a decent bottle of levo-dextro wine." Offering up a wink, he brushed her hand against his mouth, mimicking a kiss. "Thought I'd come rescue you from the stack of datapads you've no doubt buried yourself under."

Shepard had to laugh, despite the awkward circumstance. "My hero." She gestured towards Thane still sitting on the sofa and flinched under the sting of guilt when she saw Garrus stiffen. He hadn't expected an audience for his little joke. "We were just finishing a cup of tea. Make yourself comfortable. After all that chamomile, I need to run to the bathroom." _Coward._ She admonished herself as she darted past him.

Thane willed his expression to remain neutral as he regarded Garrus.  It had not escaped his notice that Garrus had not needed to signal a request to enter. The security settings were adjusted to give him immediate entry into Shepard's cabin. He was crest-fallen by the turian's presence. He had wrongly assumed her hesitancy was due to the unexpected nature of his confession. Now it was obvious that her qualms lay in her attachment to her comrade. _How could I be so foolish?_

Thane stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I do not wish to over-stay my welcome. I shall return to my quarters. Please thank the commander for me." He bowed to the rigid turian before taking his leave.

Once in the privacy of the elevator, Thane lowered his head in defeat. He felt a little ridiculous for having been so imprudent. _But she responded._

Upon reviewing the memories, his own desire was awakened by the smell of her hair as he had leaned in to touch it, and the look of soft pleasure in her smile before she'd jumped up and flitted away from him. He shuddered at the remembered warmth of her hand against his chest.  He had resisted the temptation to cover her hand with his own -to lock her touch against him- when he recognized the apprehension in her eyes. He hadn’t wanted to risk losing that look of longing looming just behind the panic by pushing her too quickly.

Yes, she had wanted him just as he had wanted her. He was sure of it. But...she would never give in to it. _Nor should she_ , he realized.

* * *

 

"He’s all courtesy and detachment until you come in the room. Then he just zeroes in on you. Every time. And you. Your heart rate spikes and you do that human thing -turning colors."

Shepard was doing that human thing now. "Come on, Garrus. You can’t be serious?"

Garrus felt hot jealousy rise in his gullet. Shepard visited the crew often on her rounds, but she almost never socialized in her private quarters. In all the time he'd known her, fought beside her, he'd only recently started coming to see her here. How had the drell already become close enough to her to be lounging on her sofa with a cup of tea? "You kissed didn't you?" He blurted out. "With those pink...things. What are they? Lips. He has those lips and he pressed them on yours didn't he?"

Shepard couldn't resist laughing at his clumsy accusations. "Garrus. Knock it off. Do you hear yourself?"

Garrus loosened his stance a little at the sound of her laughter. That sound often had a softening effect on him, but he wasn't about to let her off so easily. "You instigated this whole thing between us. You better be straight with me, Jane."

Shepard flinched as if struck. "I am being straight with you."

"You're hesitating."

Shepard froze at his accusation. Her fingers twitched at her sides.

Garrus softened his voice, "Come on, Jane. What is it? What's holding you back?"

"I- there's too much...morbidity. Too much gloom." She stood stiffly, her usually expressive face pinched and tense. "You and I have seen more than even a soldier's fair share. I died. You almost died. Thane's dying. We fuck this up and the Reapers make sure everyone dies..."

He smelled bullshit. "Don't hide behind some commander speech. This is about us."

"Is it though? I wake up on a slab with Miranda--” she cut herself off, obviously searching for the words she wanted. “The whole galaxy has fast-forwarded two goddamn years and I'm just supposed to suck it up and save us all again, right? God Garrus, I was feeling like a fucking cyborg. Jacob told me I was nothing more than ‘meat and tubes’ when they started. How the hell was I supposed to wrap my mind around that?” She set her jaw, closing both eyes deliberately before continuing, “But what else could I do? Turn my back on those colonists? Sit on my hands until the Council or the Alliance got a fucking clue? I had to act. I always do. And there's never room to just be a goddamned human being. You know? Just another person with, fears, flaws, issues... There's never room for mistakes. Ever. And I had forgotten how to just...just live anymore." She let out a long suffering sigh before levelling her eyes at him. He braced himself. He knew that look meant she was through with courtesy and was about to deliver a harsh truth.

"And then there you were, Vakarian. I found you right in the middle of an Omega shit-storm like the savior your epithet promises -the one person I most needed to see again. And a few minutes after I find you...you get your fucking face blown off. And worse, I find out those years I missed took something of the friend I knew, of my Garrus."

That last statement cut him. He darkened his voice without realizing it. "You think you're the only one who has suffered in this? After bringing Saren down, I could have sworn you were invincible. Imagine the shock when I lost my best friend just after I left for my big hero’s welcome back home! Fate had to reach up and snapped a mandible. Everything changed in an instant.”

He didn’t bother trying to neutralize the bitterly inflamed timbre of his voice. She couldn’t hear half of it anyway. “I tried to move on. To do something that mattered -like you would have done. And just when I got some semblance of a life I could live with again, I lost my entire squad!  Good people, Shepard. And I watched helplessly as two of them choked on their own blood right in front of me! I've been swathed in nothing but failure and loss ever since you left. What exactly are you-"

"That's my fucking point!" she interjected. She took a quick breath and lowered her voice again, obviously straining for more control. "We're both in extraordinary emotional circumstances, Garrus. This isn't just about two people sharing an attraction and falling in lo-starting a relationship. You told me yourself you weren't gonna pretend you're into humans. Would we be interested in each other, on our own merits, if it weren't for everything we’ve been through? This thing is developing from our need. I'm not saying it's wrong, but yeah, sometimes I hesitate. And, it's obvious you're not sure yet either.” She arched one hair-lined brow, “Are you?"

He wanted to storm out. She was dismissing too much, oversimplifying. This wasn't fair. But it wasn't untrue, either. He closed his eyes briefly and gentled the scraping in his subharmonics. "I haven't been sure of anything since I first lost you. And, I’ll admit, I haven’t known where to go with this,” he gestured between them both, “since the idea first came up. But I've been warming to you, Jane." He reached out and squeezed her shoulder as he’d seen her do for so many others. "Liara reminded me of something. Gave me a baseline I could fall back on. As long as I could trust in our friendship, the rest would work itself out from there. And that's something I can do. Can you?"

Shepard stood staring up at him expectantly for what seemed like hours, "Yeah, Garrus. I can do that."

That wasn't quite the reaction he'd hoped for, but it was good enough.

She reached for his talon once again. "You'll have to make it up to me though."

"What?"

"Your assumptions were pretty fucked up, big guy." She couldn't resist flashing him a mischievous smile. "After these last few weeks, you really thought I'd be out pressing my 'pink things' against other crew members? What do you think I am, Garrus? A dancer at Afterlife?"

"We've all seen your dancing, Shepard. No one would mistake you for a dancer."

She socked him in the shoulder, none too gently. "Bastard. I'm a fantastic dancer when the music's good. That crap they play in Afterlife doesn't count."

He lifted his good mandible into a smirk. "Whatever you say, Commander." He felt the tension draining now that they were back on familiar ground.

"Now, if you can forego a pissing contest long enough, I'll have a chat with Krios and settle any potential misunderstandings, deal?"

"Pissing contest? Another charming humanism. I'll have to store that one away for later." He tugged on the hand enclosed in his talon, pulling her closer. "So, how am I supposed to make it up to you Shepard?" He was all too eager to change the subject.

She tilted her head and smiled, that mischievous smile he’d grown to like best. "Well that bit with the kiss on the hand was a good start. Where'd you learn that smooth move?"

Saw it in an old Earth vid Joker sent me. I've wanted to try it ever since."

"You're a heartbreaker, Garrus. Do it again."

He obliged her, enjoying the gleam in her eyes as he brought her soft hand to his mouth and nuzzled. He was rewarded by her increasing heart rate as indicated by his visor.

"Now perhaps you'll submit to an experiment which might help you relax." She led him towards the steps by the hand.

"Relax? I’m not the one who’s worked up."

Either she’d missed his jibe or she chose to ignore it. "Admit it Garrus, kissing has you freaked out. Why else would you be so preoccupied with what I might have done with my 'pink things'?" She positioned him in front of her on the lowest step while she stood just a little taller than him on the top step.

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

"Nope. Probably not. Now, close your eyes and don't think."

He blinked at her, his brow ridges contorted into a scoff.

"Do you trust me or not?"

"In principle..."

"Good. Then close them. And just feel the ... sensation, or I don't know. Just promise me you'll keep your ornery thoughts out of it, okay?"

He closed his eyes in acquiescence, feeling her slide his visor off ever so gently.

She lowered her lips to his brow, lightly kissing the plate in the center of his forehead. She slid one hand over the cowl of his carapace to gently caress his neck. Then she gingerly brushed her lips along one brow plate, kissing softly down the side of his face, breathing warm moist air along the joint of his mandible. The sensation was so torturously light and provocative that he felt his own inaudible rumbling of pleasure gaining intensity with each delightful press of her fleshy mouth. She tilted his face upwards, dragging her lips and flitting her wet tongue along the length of his mandibles before finally pressing her mouth to his.

"See?" She pulled back to look at him again. "Not so bad, was it?" She started to step back but he caught her arm.

"Not so fast!" He pulled her back into his embrace, holding her tighter than he had ever dared before. He could smell her peculiar human scent as he nestled his face in the crook of her delicate silken neck. He reached up to take a fistful of hair -careful not to pull it, he’d been warned that hair-pulling was painful. He rather enjoyed the texture of it.

Shepard shivered at the fluttering mandibles along her throat. He could feel her soft vocalization of pleasure through the thin, sensitive skin. He felt the subtle shifting of his groin plates in response. She seemed to be melting under his attentions. That is, until his arms slid down to encircle her waist.

She stiffened immediately, in his arms.

"What happened to that wine you promised me?"

"Oh." He released her. "Yeah. Let's open it up then, shall we?"

 

* * *

One snark and one hastily drunk glass later, and Shepard was snoring on the couch. Garrus was both amused and a bit surprised to see it. He'd heard it from other crewman on bunks shared in close quarters. But still...Commander fucking Shepard snores.

She was also considerably heavier than he expected, as he lifted her off the sofa. Given her small human stature, he had expected her to be light as a child in his arms. He was gratified to feel the solid weight matched the assurance her presence so often gave him. He pressed his forehead to hers as he laid her on the bed. "Sleep well, Jane."

 

 


	14. Mordin's Bombshell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Casualties:
> 
> Mentally exhausted from the encounter with Morinth, yet unable to sleep, Shep invited Thane up for a social call. They chatted at first, but after Thane received the "sign" he'd been looking for, he made his move. Shep caught on a little late and found herself in an embarrassing predicament when he "confessed" to care for her. 
> 
> She meant to cut him off and explain that she was with Garrus, but she found herself frozen in place, unable to accept or reject him. Fortunately, Garrus interrupted the moment with an unexpected visit. Thane was crestfallen when he realized the commander was already spoken for, and bowed out.
> 
> Garrus admitted to being a bit jealous. He'd noticed that both Thane and Shepard are affected by the other's presence and that Shepard had been shying away from him earlier. Shep laughed it off and proceeded to initiate their first kiss. After they shared a glass of wine, she promptly fell asleep....

 

"I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that."

Shepard wiped the sweat from her brow before offering the towel to Garrus. He, too, wiped the sweat -her sweat- from the protective gear over his talons, his arms, and thorax. Handing the towel back he added, “Humans are slippery.”

She smiled at his observation. "So how do turians regulate body temperature?"

"Well, we can withstand a much wider variance of core temperatures in the first place. Overheating isn't as much of a problem. Of course most hardsuits regulate temperature in extreme environments now, but, if needed, we can loosen our plates and...” he mulled over the most translatable way to describe it, “flap them."

Shepard burst into uproarious laughter. "You fan yourselves with your plates?!...Oh, I'd pay to see that shit!"

Garrus snorted. "Yeah well, keep your credits, it's not exactly dignified. A turian, unarmored, unplated underflesh exposed to a human? That'll be the day."

"Heh. If sparring isn't enough to get your plates flapping..." She chuckled throatily once more, "Perhaps I can find some excuse to visit Karumto and drive through that volcano again."

Garrus knelt down to unbind his spurs. "Never again, Commander. Never. Again."

Shepard tore at the tape around her sparring gloves with blunt teeth while Garrus mused at how her gloves protected her hands from his plates more than the other way around. Looking down on him as he crouched in front of her, she was barely a head taller than him, but she made the most of the advantageous angle. "So are you gonna tell me what's eating you or do I seriously have to try my hand at interrogating a former C-Sec officer?"

He paused to look at her, deliberately allowing his confusion to flicker over his face. "What's _eating_ me?"

Shepard laughed again, entirely ignorant of its effect on him. "It means 'what's bothering you?'” She tossed her gloves aside and opened a locker. “Sorry, should've known that one wouldn't translate."

He nodded at her explanation, and returned to unbinding his spurs. "Maybe I just wanted to go easy on you for a change. Boost your morale."

He didn't particularly want to have this conversation. It was awkward to discuss personal problems with Shepard. Her bare-toned voice was still hard to read at times. Humans tended to use a variety of words and idioms each with their own contextual nuance to infer what would otherwise be communicated through subharmonics. It made translators clumsy supplements to the intent behind all those words. Although learning and adopting human idioms had become an enjoyable way to pass the time, as the lone turian aboard a human ship, it was still frustrating to not be able to rely on his true voice when the conversation was important or...personal.

Besides, it didn't seem right to unburden himself to someone who obviously already had too much to worry about. He was more comfortable when things were the other way around; he took pride in always, as the humans say, ‘having her back.’

Shepard stopped her rummaging to give him her look, the one that warned him not to screw around. "Oh please. You may be bigger and stronger but you'll be damned before you'd go easy on anyone. Besides,” she nonchalantly added. “I'd never forgive you.” She turned back to the locker. “You were distracted, big guy, and as much as I'd like to take the credit, it wasn't my feminine wiles making you slow enough for an ass-kicking."

 _Oh quads, maybe it'll help_ , Garrus surrendered; avoidance wasn't doing him any good anyway. "I'm just preoccupied about calling my family. The last time I spoke with my father, I was apologizing to him back on Omega. Didn’t think I’d ever see him again."

Shepard grimaced and gave him her full attention. "The calls I made to Mom didn't exactly go smoothly either. She still battles with whether or not I'm really me or if she's being manipulated by a Cerberus clone.” She shrugged. “Can't say I blame her. But it's not very pleasant to..." Her malleable face passed through a few uncomfortable looking expressions. She shook it off. "Just get it over with. You’ll feel better."

"I know. I know. I just...” He sighed in frustration. “I don't know how much he knows about my being on a Cerberus vessel. I suppose it hardly matters. But I can never manage to not take his remarks personally. He hooks me into a fight every damn time. I swear by the spirits, even when I'm apologizing, even when I'm specifically saying, 'You were right, sir. It won't happen again,' the man isn't satisfied until my spirit is completely obliterated.” His shoulders slumped. “I damn well know better than to seek his approval by now but-"

"But it still hurts when your parents can't bring themselves to give you the benefit of the doubt," Shepard finished his sentence for him. After a few moments of silence, she leaned against the locker she was using. "Didn't you tell me your father prevented you from qualifying for Spectre training?"

"Yeah, well. He didn't approve of the sort of legal shortcuts a Spectre employs. He always said, 'It's not just what you do, but _how_ you do it.'” Garrus shoved the rest of his sparring gear into his bag with a bit more force than necessary. “He never much liked the way I did anything." Petulant bitterness had crawled into his tone; it was a little embarrassing. He stood with his gear, poised to head for the shower, though he doubted she could pick up on the subtone anyway.

She stepped forward and cupped his shoulder. Peering into his face with large, soft eyes she said, "Well, for what it's worth, I think he's wrong about that."

Then again, maybe she _had_ picked up on the tone. He looked down at her small human hand resting over his plates, lightly brushing the sensitive and vulnerable flesh just underneath. It was warm and odd with its five small digits, but comforting all the same. "That's enough for me. Thanks, Shepard." He patted her hand with his free one and headed off towards the showers.

* * *

 

Shepard had always had a soft spot for Jack. She knew Garrus didn't. He figured her raging rebellious streak was an unnecessary liability. But Shepard saw what Jack could be, if only... _if only she realized that half of her bitterly ruthless bitch persona stemmed from self-pity._

Even for Shepard, Jack was notoriously tough to deal with. She needed compassion, but wouldn’t accept it unless it was disguised as something else. And while she subconsciously demanded the disguise, she still complained that no one was ever straight with her, thus feeding into her addiction to challenge every statement anyone ever made. Ever.

Yep, Jack was a pain in the ass, and Shepard adored her.

She found her in the usual spot, sitting on her makeshift cot, leaning against the bulkhead, eyes closed, and knee cocked.

“Hey,” Jack absently greeted.

Shepard gave her a curt nod in greeting. “How’s life in the bowels of the Normandy?”

“Boring.” She rolled her head to look at the other woman. “How’s life as a Cerberus figure-head?”

“Taxing, thanks for asking.” _The little bitch._ “I’ve got an assignment for you.”

“Oh, _really?”_  Jack’s voluptuous lips curved into a snarl, but her eyes scrunched into a smile.

“Yeah. I’m preparing a training excursion. We’re all going to have to be well-coordinated if we’re gonna have a chance at surviving this thing. I need you and Samara to work together as my barrier experts.”

“That so?”

Shepard nodded, “I have no way of predicting how much cover we’ll have for regenerating shields. You two need to figure out how to alternate barriers as you recharge biotics, and watch out for squad mates in need of protection.”

Jack sat up, betraying her eagerness to break the monotony of life on the ship. “Me and the asari as your barrier bitches?”

Shepard smiled inwardly. “Yeah. But once you’ve worked out your technique, I want you to teach the other biotics as well. This will be your primary function on the mission, but should one of you fall in the field, the others should be in on your process as backups. It’s important, Jack. I don’t know exactly how many we’ll be up against, but we _will_ be outnumbered. I guarantee it.”

Jack twisted her head, cracking her vertebrae noisily. “Alright. I’m fine with it if they can handle a little schooling from the psychotic biotic and the epic dragon lady. Anyone but that cheerleader cunt--”

“That cheerleader cunt is a powerful biotic, Jack.” Shepard caught the younger woman’s eye to drive home her point. “If you can get over yourselves long enough to work together, it might mean the difference between life and death for the rest of the crew.”

Jack wrestled with her disgust at first, but eventually nodded agreement. “You’re lucky I owe you, Shepard.”

The commander smiled to herself, a little proud of Jack’s progress. She was also a little relieved she’d sided with Jack during her little tantrum with Miranda earlier. Miranda was calculating enough to be reasoned with afterwards, but Jack’s explosive emotional inner-child needed some evidence that Shepard was really “on her side.” Clearly, it had worked.

“Good. I’m glad to have you watching my back, Jack. I’ll have Samara contact you shortly.”

“Whatever,” she said dismissively.

Shepard shook her head as she climbed the stairs to the engineering deck. _I’ll be damned if she didn’t get the last word in, again._

* * *

 

Mordin Solus stood over his terminal, head bowed, fingers flying over the controls at an erratic pace when Shepard entered the lab. She smiled to herself as she approached him; she admired his vitality.

Mordin could multi-task better than any being she’d ever met. No matter how delicate or complex the hypothesis, he could factor in the implications, pinpoint any details which were “problematic,”  and still keep the bigger picture intact. And while he was at it, the mad salarian scientist indulged himself in...patter singing, of all things.

Given his relatively short lifespan, the former STG agent had managed to do a whole lot of living in the midst of his accomplishments. She’d come to depend on his quick wit and analytical perspective so much that she could no longer imagine the Normandy without him.

She stood before him with her arms crossed, still unacknowledged or possibly unnoticed. It seemed a pity to interrupt him. “Have you got a minute to talk?”

“Actually. Wanted to talk. Medical matters.” He stepped away from his terminal, in order to stand directly in front of her, as if he had anticipated her visit. “Aware that mission is dangerous. Different species, react differently to stress. Sexual activity normal as stress release. Still, recommend caution with Thane. Drell-human liaisons...complex. Thane complex as well.” The last sentence was spoken with a sly expression and no small amount of irony in his tone.

What the hell? She found it a little difficult to recover from his unexpected tangent. She uncrossed her arms to place a hand on each hip. “Mordin, I don’t know what you think I am, but I really don’t need a sex-ed spiel for every species aboard the ship. You’ve already covered human-turian liaisons.”

“Not every species. Merely observed your pheromone emissions rise since Thane’s return. Also, noted a marked change in Thane, both in fitness and demeanor.” He paused his animated monologue for effect. “Impact even more evident in each other’s physical presence.”

Her shock left her hesitating too long to prevent him from continuing, “Prolonged human to drell skin contact may cause small rash, itching. Oral contact may cause mild hallucinations. Also forwarding advice booklet to your quarters, valuable diagrams, positions comfortable for both species, erogenous zone overviews. Can supply treatments to counter symptoms if necessary.”

She raised one hand to silence him, eyes wide and blinking rapidly, her mouth slightly agape. She shook her head as she spoke, “Wait a minute Mordin, you’ve misunderstood--”

“No.” Mordin closed his eyes and gave one of his characteristically long-suffering inhalations.  “Interest in Garrus understandable. Share a genuine affinity. Friendship leads to personal growth. Growth leads to exploration of boundaries.”  He tilted his head  and squinted his eyes as he considered his deductions.  “Sexual boundaries. Naturally. Hormones.” He shrugged. “Understandable, but short-sighted. Overlooked  potential for other areas of emotional growth. Overlooked.. _.love._ ”

“Excuse me doctor?” Shepard was baffled --no, flabberghasted. And she wasn’t sure why exactly, but she was a little offended as well.

“Love.” Mordin began pacing in short staggering steps before her. “Bonding, emotional expression reflects psychological, spiritual evolution. Interest in growth. Personal connection. Attachment leads to loss, yes. But also, _meaning._ Deeper motivation. Exponentially increases ability to cope with strain of upcoming mission.”

“Alright, alright, Mordin, stop. Just tell me one thing.” She chuckled partly in amusement and partly in discomfort. She’d intended to ask him about ways to improve the training excursion she had planned. This little tangent of his was completely unanticipated. “What does any of this have to do with drell-human liaisons?”

Mordin smiled indulgently -or was it wickedly?- “What indeed?”

 

* * *

 

 

He wondered if she expected an apology.

Thane did not believe he needed to apologize. After all, how could one regret one’s own feelings? It was the actions taken in reference to emotions - when the soul and body willfully connect - that may be judged. No, he did not question, nor regret, his regard for the commander.

Neither of them had acted improperly either. He had merely expressed himself candidly and she had searched for the words to tell him what Garrus had unwittingly shown him in the end.

Now that he understood her position, he would withdraw the implied offer and be content to simply hold her in his heart, unrequited as it were, until the end of his days; a short time indeed.

But the commander may not share his point of view, and whether or not she expected an apology, was another matter. He was curious to see how she would handle this non-issue now that she was no longer caught off-guard.

He had read guilt in her body language when he reviewed the memory. It honestly amused him. She could not help the autonomic sexual arousal response of her body any more than she could control the urge to sneeze. While he was devilishly pleased he had evoked such a reaction, he instinctively grasped that she, was not pleased. Of course she’d done nothing to be ashamed of, but humans tended to muddle the wills of the soul and the body together.

If necessary, he planned to provide her with a polite apology, if she implied that she expected one. Hopefully this would be enough to comfortably move past their last conversation.

A familiar pattern of footsteps drew him out of his musings as they approached his door. Shepard had come to him sooner than he thought. He found himself, once again, having to tame his body’s response to her as the door slid open.

  



	15. A Warrior's Wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Casualties:
> 
> After an awkward encounter with Thane, Shep is planning some final training ops for the pending leap through the Omega 4 Relay. While making her rounds, she asks various crewmembers to contribute, but Mordin contributes much more than Shep bargained for. 
> 
> Meanwhile she still needs to make sure things are settled with Thane, she doesn't want their misunderstanding to progress any further.

* * *

 

Shepard was acutely aware of how unfamiliar every detail appeared since leaving Mordin’s office. As she finished her rounds, the feeling only intensified. It was as though everything she took for granted, no longer made sense. For a discerning leader generally undaunted by moral ambiguity, uncertainty was a special kind of hell. And each passing inquiry into her lovelife only made it worse.

What the hell was it that everyone and their proverbial uncle was picking up on, exactly?  Sure, she  acknowledged an attraction to Thane, but so what? And why the hell should it be so obvious to everyone else? There was a brief period when she'd been attracted to Liara once upon a time as well, but the attraction had faded as their friendship solidified and she fully expected the same result with Thane.

Yes, he was admirable and intriguing. A skilled asset to the crew. She was glad to have him back on board. Glad to know him. And she knew she’d be proud to stand by his bedside and bid him farewell when his illness finally claimed him; even though any thought of his impending journey “to the sea” made her stomach twist and her jaw clamp tight.  But that didn't mean she'd toss aside the blossoming intimacy she shared with Garrus. She would never be disloyal to Garrus. Shouldn't that be just as obvious? Why was everyone behaving so peculiarly? She was evidently missing something and she fucking hated that feeling.

She also hated feeling so absurdly guilty.

As she stepped through the doors, her oversensitive state made it seem as though the very air in Life Support tasted differently. The light glowed strangely stronger, and the reflection off of his scaled scalp gleamed oddly too. Even the feel of her own weight, as each footstep rocked from heel to toe, was weird. Was the ship's gravity system a little off?

Being in the same room with Thane was suddenly...surreal.

"Do you need something?" he asked without turning to look at her. He never seemed to need visual confirmation to recognize her approach.

Thane was seated in his habitual spot at the table. Bracing herself, Shepard stepped past him and mustering up her best nonchalant pose, she leaned against the window with her arms folded over her chest. Curiously, she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the face, so instead, she fixed her eyes on the rectangular clasps protruding from the shoulder of his jacket.

"We have acquired nearly every resource, and settled every score. The final mission is at hand, so I'm organizing a series of training ops before we go through the relay.” She paused for his nod of acknowledgement. “There will be a debriefing in an hour followed immediately by our first op on Sat Six*. Please prepare to go landside and if you think of anything specific you can contribute to training the team: observations, tips on hand-to-hand combat, anything, bring it up at the debriefing.” She finished with a slight exhale of relief. That wasn’t so bad. She didn’t see what everyone else was hinting at.

"Understood."

The sound of his voice finally brought her eyes to his, and she found herself trapped in his gaze again. She could feel the rush of blood rising to her head, heartbeat thudding overly loud in her ears. _I’ll be damned if those eyes won’t be the end of me._ "Thanks Krios, I'm glad to have you with us."

Thane’s shoulders fell just a fraction of an inch. He nodded, "And I am glad to have a purpose again."

Shepard stood motionless against the window, mulling over whether or not to say more, but her thoughts were chaotic. Fortunately, the doors slid open, giving her an out. "Ah, Samara.” Shepard stepped away from the window. “Perfect timing. I'll leave you to it." She nodded a polite farewell to the somber assassin and stepped out of Life Support before either of the other two could object.

**{그다음에}**

 

The regal asari stood before Thane impassively. The commander had asked her to brief all of the biotics before the outing, but Samara chose instead to say something more pertinent to the man who had showed such discretion when she had completed her 400 year pursuit of her nefarious daughter.

"When I first came aboard the Normandy, I avoided some of the crew,” she began.  “I have learned that it is imprudent to be curious. I was especially wary of meeting you, Sere Krios.” She met his mildly questioning look with her own expressionless countenance before explaining. “Once the Third Oath of Subsumation to Shepard is fulfilled, it is possible that I may have to pursue anyone who has acted dishonorably on the mission. Had our paths crossed in the past, I would have been obliged to kill you. However, the code does weigh the actions of the present over those of the past. Time is an illusion, after all. The abstract notions of “past” and “future” must not overshadow the realities of the present."

Thane dipped his head in accord. "Indeed, the teachings of Kalahira expound on the eternal instant. Both the past and the future only truly exist in the mind."

Samara’s preternaturally glassy blue eyes sparkled with recognition. "I am impressed. I imagined this concept would be difficult to embrace when re-experiencing the past is so fundamental to your biology and culture.” Her tone grew heavier. “But one can never affect the past. No matter how often you relive it, or  how you come to understand it, the past will never change."

"And the future will only ever be a collection of karmic probabilities based in too many factors outside of our control,” he added.

She jutted her chin almost defiantly, as though she dared him to contradict her. "Then you understand why I am relieved that your present devotion to atonement is sincere. The code I live by reveres redemption as an important component towards justice. Taking responsibility and making amends, if sincere, is a laudable act." She glanced down, suddenly lost in thought.

Eyes still downcast, she continued, "I commend your intervention with your son. Deeds such as that do not go unnoticed by the universe. They echo in all who hear them.” She paused to meet his eyes directly. “Whatever you have done in the past, your actions at present are honorable."

Thane stood and bowed reverentially, "You are most kind."

She bowed her own head in a return gesture of respect. "I would say something about your personal situation, if you are inclined to hear it."

"I am."

"Abstaining from life because you anticipate your death is a mistake. We can all expect the same outcome in the end. It does not justify sacrificing the present. You, Sere Krios, have more to give. Do not deny yourself this." She paused. It was subtle, but the justicar actually smiled at him.  "Do not deny _her_ either."

* * *

 

*a moon orbiting Urdak, in the Sahrabarik System of the Omega Nebula.

 

 


	16. Gear Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Casualties:
> 
> After an awkward encounter, Shep needed to make sure things are settled with Thane, she doesn't want their misunderstanding to progress any further. Unfortunately, those damned eyes of his still stop her in her tracks. 
> 
> Samara comes to see Thane and gives some insights on much more than biotic battle prowess before the big training mission.

"You sleep in that armor? I never see you in anything else.” Joker didn’t bother to swivel around at Garrus’s approach. Unfazed by the lack of response, “What do you do with yourself when everyone else is busy suiting up?"

"You sleep in that chair? What do you do when everyone else is suiting up?" Garrus retorted.

"Oh, just relay last minute commands, scan for intel, configure the Normandy for optimal flying in case we gotta get the hell out of dodge. Y’know, the insignificant details that might just save all your asses- Ah, I get it. You do the same thing, just with guns and, yeah.” The pilot rubbed the back of his neck. The silence didn’t hold long before Joker lowered his voice to a conspiratorial murmur, "So, you and the commander huh?" He trailed off hoping Garrus would jump in. He was disappointed, but not surprised. The ass-stick wasn't budging on this one. "Y’know scuttlebutt around the ship is getting pretty interesting," he prompted again.

Garrus made a voiceless grunt, his species’ equivalent of a shrug. He wasn’t about to let Joker bait him this time. "No surprise there. Too many people in a tin can with nothing to think about -other than a pending suicide mission, I guess." He narrowed his eyes at Joker's wry grin. "You're not getting any details from me, Joker."

"Aw, come on! Just the color of her panties or what sound she makes when you-?” Joker cut himself off. “No, wait, nevermind. Don't tell me. I like the mystery."

Garrus cracked a "Hah!  The absence of a woman in your life is starting to show. Breakable or not, Shepard would slap up your head if she heard that."

"It's 'smack you upside the head,' and here I thought you were getting so savvy with the humanisms." Joker leaned forward casually to tweak the ship’s controls, savoring the opportunity to push Garrus’s buttons as well. "So you gonna challenge Thane to a duel or what?"

Garrus couldn't stop himself from stiffening a little. Luckily he was standing just behind the pilot's seat, out of Joker's view. "I think I'll forego a pissing contest for now."

Joker smirked. "Too bad. ‘Cause when it comes to the commander, Thane doesn't stand a chance." He finally swiveled his chair around to face Garrus. “Nice save with that last one by the way. You’re almost as good as EDI.”

The comm crackled on. It was Shepard. "Garrus. Could you join me in my cabin?"

Joker grinned. "One last romp in the hay before the training mission, Commander?"

Shepard didn't miss a beat. "I'd much prefer whooping your ass. Good stretch of the muscles."

"Sounds kinky."

"Garrus, smack him upside the head before you go."

"Copy that, Commander."

 

* * *

Shepard paced in her padded under-suit, datapad in hand. Worrying was a useless waste. She’d simply have to be shrewd: upgrade the ship, combat armor, weaponry, omni-tools. She’d train everyone hard, root out weak points and then eliminate them, keep morale up, and prepare for every possibility. And then, at that key moment when she would inevitably be forced to throw all plans and strategies out the window, she’d improvise as she always did.

There was nothing very suicidal about this “suicide mission.” That wasn’t the way she operated. She knew that if it was possible to pull them through this unscathed, she’d find a way. She had to- _We’re going to lose people. No way around that._ Garrus’s words interrupted her thoughts yet again. She stopped mid-stride, closed her eyes, and exhaled through her nose. She recognized the inevitable truth in his words, but she also understood that the only way to cope with the reality of it was to do everything in her power to prevent it anyway.

He’d also told her that he’d walk through hell with her. _And I’m with you regardless._ That was Garrus for you. She could always depend on him. That was probably why her fears seemed to lie down and play possum whenever he was present.

She turned towards the swishing sound of her cabin door and immediately felt the pounding in her head relent a little at the sight of  his familiar visage.  It didn't matter if the whole fucking galaxy was against her -and it usually was- because she had Garrus Vakarian fighting at her side.  

"Garrus." His name alone was both a greeting and an affirmation. "Before we brief the crew, I need to clear some things up with you.”

“Sure, what do you have in mind?”

“You are my second in command on this mission. Miranda is a veritable badass on the field, but she doesn't have the leadership skills to pull this crew through when the shit hits the fan, and she knows it.” Garrus chuckled at that as Shepard folded her arms over her chest and cocked her hip. “You've always been my unofficial XO anyway, so we're just gonna waltz into that briefing like you've always owned that position and I'm sure everyone will accept it, Miranda included."

"Of course, Shepard." Without saying another word, he stepped behind her and began massaging her shoulders using the soft pads on the inside of his talons. The form of her exposed musculature was so easy to feel under the skintight undersuit. It made locating tightness and easing her tension practically intuitive. Curiously, the very act of touching her seemed to relieve his own tension as well.

She leaned into the touch, briefly vocalizing her appreciation before continuing, "Okay. That's settled. Now some other issues. I need you in on every detail, in case anything should happen to me on this mission. I’m depending on you to pull everyone through this." She held up a datapad. "Read this ASAP."  

He had always hated it when she said “should anything happen to me.” He pulled her in closer and nuzzled her neck from behind for a brief moment before reaching around her elbow to take the datapad.

_Delete and wipe this as soon as you’ve finished. Now go nonchalantly find yourself a spot out of EDI's sensor range before opening the next document._

Garrus stepped to her side and nodded, "Understood." He immediately headed off to go do as the datapad bid. He had a scrambler that should do the trick  in the Main Battery.

Once there, he began to read:

_For the record, I believe we can trust both Miranda and EDI. But we also know how TIM’s devious ass operates. If he’s got some diabolical secret contingency set up, it’d most likely go through one of them. So, we have to have a contingency plan of our own and they must not be included._

_Saving the abducted colonists is not our first priority. We can't be sure if they’re even alive at this point. Or if they've been indoctrinated. Or worse. So stopping the collectors, fucking ensuring they never abduct another person ever again, has to come first._

_That said, I intend to make Miranda head of the rescue operation. No one would question the need of her medical expertise and it will keep her busy and distracted in case we need to set our own plans in motion. Hopefully, it’ll also validate her self-importance enough not to raise suspicion._

_Next shore leave, you need to make sure Tali and Joker join you for a mandatory game of “Skylian Five.” Liara has arranged a bug-free saferoom on Omega. We need to work out a way to block EDI from interfering with the ship if necessary. Because, if all else seems lost, the plan is to nuke the relay.Only as a last resort of course, but still, we can't have TIM interfering with my orders if it comes to that._

_If we fail on this mission, there will be no one else to stop these things. You saw the sheer numbers of those pods they had on that ship. They’ll target a lot more than outlying colonies before this is through. We cannot fail. Period._

Garrus wiped the datapad with an inaudible growl. It wasn't exactly encouraging that destroying their only way home was the contingency plan, but he had to agree with her. He’d wondered often enough whether or not Cerberus had managed to put any sleeper agents aboard the SR2. Hell, a portion of EDI’s hardware was still locked offline. It said so itself that it assumed it would be unlocked when “certain unknown conditions” were met. He wouldn’t put anything past the Illusive Man.

Well, at least he wouldn’t be alone in this. No matter how ugly this mission got, he’d be there with her, every step of the way.

 

* * *

Just as the commander approached the galaxy map, EDI’s emotionless, pleasantly professional voice came on, "The IFF is nearly installed Shepard. However, I must test its impact on the Normandy's systems. I suggest you take the shuttle to access your next location."

Joker chimed in,"Hey Commander, good news. Looks like the Reaper IFF is hooked up and ready to go."

"That's not entirely accurate, Mr. Moreau. The device is powered, but it's causing some unusual instability in other systems. I recommend a more thorough analysis before we attempt to use it," EDI corrected in an astonishingly lifelike tone of condescension.

Shepard cut in before a bout of bickering began. "Better safe than sorry for this tech. We'll take the shuttle for this trip. But Joker, keep us cloaked, we're in pirate territory out here."

Joker was far too cocky about his skills to show much concern about pirates. His confidence in his ability to outmaneuver any would-be raiders was absolute. "I'll make sure we're up and running when you get back."

"Alright, Joker. The ship is yours."

 

* * *

 Thane sat in the overcrowded shuttle between Samara and Jacob. Shepard and Garrus stood opposite him, both bedecked in bright blue armor, their poses mirroring each other.

Shepard’s debriefing had been straightforward as always. With the help of Cerberus resources, she had arranged a series of training ops on a moon orbiting Urdak, in the Omega Nebula. Once she was satisfied with the cohesion of the group, the IFF was installed, and the last of the ships upgrades were completed, they would go through the relay in approximately eight MET Cycles.*

Given all of the unknowns, biotics would provide cover in the open with barriers. Samara and Jack had created a cooperative biotic barrier relay system to conserve their powers which all other biotics were to familiarize themselves with.

Meanwhile Legion, Tali, Kasumi and EDI had been working together and synching their gear for speedy and advanced hacking. Everyone was to protect the tech experts at all costs. The collectors had an advantage when it came to technology. That made those three the most uniquely suited to deal with unexpected hindrances and the most essential members of the team for this mission. There were to be no heroics from any of them and everyone on the squad was responsible for protecting them.

When diversion tactics or flanking were necessary, the whole team would split into two squads: Team Alpha, led by Shepard, contained himself and four others. Team Beta, led by Garrus, contained everyone else. Each squad was a compact version of the entire striketeam, composed of a tech expert, at least two biotics, a medic, a sniper, a stealth agent, and a tank. If they found any survivors, Miranda and Jacob would lead rescue and evacuation.

Thane composed himself and said a short prayer under his breath. He would be ready. He did not wish to let envy hinder his ability to serve his siha.

He had noted the easy camaraderie between Shepard and Garrus. Their bond seemed to go beyond friendship. Beyond the brotherhood so often shared among soldiers, even. They were partners.

Thane had never in his life known that sort of partnership. Irykah had shown him what it was to love and be loved. She had tried to give him a family, the life he’d never had. And he had tried to live the role she offered him. He’d known warmth and joy in their time together. Come alive through her. But there had always been untraversable gaps between them as well.

When circumstances had beckoned him to take up his work again, he had felt relieved. Having dedicated himself to becoming the most formidable assassin in the galaxy before he met his wife, he could not bring himself to regret returning to it...until it led to her death.

But Shepard and Garrus made no apologies to each other for what they were. If their work called for violence, even brutality, they simply accepted it. Accepted each other. Depended on each other. Trusted the other’s motives and decisions faithfully.

In addition to his reprehensible jealousy, Thane could not help but feel awed by the two of them as well.  

 

* * *

 * **Mission Elapsed Time** Cycles are based on the Citadel’s Galactic Standard Time translated into Earth hours and rounded up. Each cycle lasts 30 Earth hours.

 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks again to Them Memories for helping me get through that banter. (Definitely my weakness). And a big thank you to Hallianna for volunteering to be my grammar nazi beta!


	17. Completely Unguarded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PREVIOUSLY: Shepard and Garrus hammered out the details of the collector mission, including the creation of some "what if" back up plans. Shepard arranged for a training op for her strike team, just to be sure her crew could work with the necessary military efficiency despite their differences. 
> 
> Unfortunately, not long after leaving the ship, she got the call from EDI. Her crew had been abducted.

When your worst fears come to pass, you find yourself frozen in a gut punch. Your own psyche tries to protect you from the emotional horror. There’s an instant of panic. Of shock. The breath leaves your lungs. And then, nothing. Just --

_No._

EDI had reported that the crew had been taken. By the collectors. Which meant--

_No._

The entire strike team wordlessly boarded the shuttle to return to the now empty Normandy. EDI gave a status report. The IFF had a hidden tracking device. The SR2 was relatively unscathed. But they took or killed every last crew member. Every. Last. One. Except for Joker.

_No._

Shepard had seen her fair share of bloody battle scenes. Of blood spatter. Of corpses. Once aboard the Normandy, she found her ship had become one. Crewman Hawthorne lay in a broken heap against the wall on the crew deck. They’d thrown him like a ragdoll. The scorched CIC console had Navigator Hadley’s body draped over it, the large blackened holes in his torso most likely came from a Praetorian particle beam.

_No._

They’d found Joker, scanned him for injuries, and gathered in the Comm Room. No one had really spoken yet, until Miranda opened her mouth.

“Everyone? You lost everyone and damn near lost the ship too?!”

Joker sat on the table, a strained expression his face. Shepard could have murdered Miranda with her eyes alone.

Jacob defended him, “It’s not his fault, Miranda. None of us caught it.”

“Mr. Taylor is correct.” EDI’s monotone voice backed Jacob up. “The harmful data in the collector drive was even more sophisticated than the black box reaper viruses I was given.”

“Is the ship clean?” The first words out of the commander’s mouth sounded sparse, distant, alien.

“EDI and I purged the systems. The reaper IFF is online. We can go through the Omega 4 relay whenever you want.” Joker’s voice was just as out of character, entirely subdued.

Miranda, however, was as obnoxiously superior as ever. “Don’t even get me started about unshackling a damned AI.” Deliberate or not, Miranda had already accomplished one necessary act of heroism. She’d given everyone a target to direct their overwhelming rage at.

Joker stood up, furious. The tears that had been threatening finally falling down his whiskered cheeks as he turned to face Miranda. “Well what could I do against collectors?! Break my arm at them?!” he practically shouted, but then reined himself in. “EDI cleared the ship. She’s all right.”

EDI added. “I assure you, I am still bound by protocols in my programming. Even if I were not, you are my crewmates.”

Shepard was relieved to feel the first twinge of her military instincts coming back to her. In her famously inspiring, authoritative commander voice she said, “Set a course for the Omega 4 Relay right away EDI. We're getting them all back.”

"Shepard, the upgrades to the Thannix cannon aren’t finished,” Garrus stepped forward as he spoke, gnashing his teeth, his mandibles twitching slightly against his face.

And just like that. It was all gone again. Her hopes came crashing down, imploding on themselves. All she could think was a single mind-shattering word. _Fuck._

Shepard turned on Garrus ferociously, "How much longer will it take?!"

EDI came to his rescue, "We have insufficient stores of platinum to complete the project. Officer Vakarian is not at fault."

Shepard dropped her head abruptly, clenching her fist in deadly stillness over the table. She could crush it easily if she let all the frustrated energy that fist held come down. She may as well have been clutching a grenade. She had always hated scanning and mining. It felt like such a waste of time when so many lives were at stake. And now it had cost her. "Everyone, dismissed."

No one moved or spoke. They hardly breathed, unsure what to do.

Shepard remained in the same deadly stance, head down, clenched fist still hovering over the table. The next words exploded in a roar, "Get out of here!"

Just as suddenly, everyone scrambled out of the room, leaving Shepard shaking with fury and frustration.

_No._

She stood frozen, unable to decide. Unable to choose. She could hear the creaking in her jaw as her teeth ground together. _How could I let this happen? No. Don’t waste time blaming. Every second wasted is another life. You must act now._ Every moment that passed lowered the odds of rescuing the crew. _Her_ crew. If she gave the order to go through the relay now, without the upgrades to the cannon, they’d be going to the greatest battle of their lives toothless. She’d lose everyone. But if she stopped to scan and probe for platinum, and waited for the tech, the chances of recovering the abducted crew members…. _Don’t think about it. It’s like any other mission. You do what you can._

At least with the Thannix cannon completed she’d still have a decent chance to stop these abominations, and maybe even get out with the strike team still alive and intact. The casualties may be high, but the alternative, failing to stop the collections, was unthinkable.

They’d already scanned and probed Binduir, the nearest platinum rich planet in the Sahrabarik System, to depletion. She needed to stay close to the Omega 4 Relay. She activated the comm link. "Joker. Set a course for Lorek, in the Fathar System. Double time.”

"Aye-aye, ma'am."

It felt a little better knowing what to do next. "Tali, Garrus, report to the comm room on the double."

* * *

 

"I'm ordering you both to eat and rest now. We have....” Shepard adjusted to activate the comm again. “Joker ETA?”

“Approximately seven hours, twelve minutes, Commander,” was his immediate reply. There were no clever comments from him now.

She turned back to Garrus and Tali. “We have seven hours before we can send mining probes. You'll be working ‘round the clock, without Daniels or Donnely in engineering to help you just as soon as we've obtained enough platinum. It's up to you two to finish upgrading the Thannix canon in record time.” She continued before either could acknowledge what she was telling them. “And then of course, we'll be going through the relay just as soon as it's finished. Take a sedative if you must, because I need you at your best and there's no telling when you'll have another opportunity to rest.” She waited for their nods of apprehension. “Dismissed."

Tali glanced nervously at Garrus before walking out, leaving him alone with the commander. He braced himself. This was going to be rough. "Shepard, you know this isn't your fault."

Shepard's reply came in explosive bursts, as though her lungs were shooting concussive rounds. "Like hell it isn't. Who the fuck's fault is it then?" She lifted her face to the ceiling and forced herself to take an even, measured breath. "We knew something could have gone wrong. And what did I do? I took my whole fucking strike team out on the shuttles, leaving the most vulnerable crewmembers to fend for themselves.” She paused to emphasize her point. “Just who the hell do you blame for that?" That last statement was preternaturally cold and hot at the same time, like dry ice.

"Jane, you couldn't have known." His eyes were pleading with her, much like the day she'd taken him to face Sidonis, only now, it was she who was too preoccupied with bitterness to look at him.

Shepard sighed. "I appreciate the platitudes, Garrus, but the best you can do for me would be to go get that rest I ordered for you.” Her tone was paradoxically soft and cold. “I'm going to need you out there."

He stood a moment longer, considering her. Her response had hurt him. He so wanted to -to help her somehow. If anyone could understand what she was going through, it was him. But he was failing her, there was nothing he could really say or do to help in such a monstrous situation. He'd learned that the hard way, thanks to Omega.

  
He backed down, squeezing her arm as he left.

 

* * *

 

Shepard backed away from the entrance to the small gym on the crew deck.  Thane stood watching quietly from the shadows. He knew the gym was already occupied by Jack, Grunt, and Jacob and his predictions about his siha had been correct. The hours it would take before they were ready to fight would be agony for her, and she couldn't bring herself to share that agony with those who depended on her. She opted for a cup of coffee instead, wincing visibly at the absence of Sgt. Gardner in the Mess.

Thane watched her glow intermittently with infuriated biotics as she stuggled to force the rage that caused it back under control. She needed help, and he would offer it.

"Siha."

"Don't you dare tell me it's not my fault," she snapped.

He stepped closer. The energy burning from her was dangerous. Still he knew if she was going to lose control, she needed a private place to do it. He grasped her elbow, his hand burning from the electric heat running over her skin. But he was quite strong and with a willful push from him, she moved her feet and allowed him to guide her the few meters toward Life Support.

Once the doors closed behind them, he decided the only way to get her out of the deadlock of her fury and grief was to draw her out directly, like drawing venom from a wound.

"You're right, Shepard. It was your responsibility."

"I left them here. Unprotected." Her stance was tense from restraint, though she seemed uncertain of what exactly, she was holding at bay.

"That does not mean you are to blame. You arranged for an important training exercise while the ship took precautions to analyze vital upgrades for the mission.” He attempted to capture her gaze. “You did not abandon anyone."

"I know!” She spat without looking at him. Without looking at anything. There was no stopping the torrent now. She simply stood by and allowed her inner turmoil to express itself externally. “In this position, with every choice I make there's some horrible casualty; whether it's innocent strangers, the crewmen who lay their lives on the line for me, or my own heart. I'm always backed into a corner with impossible soul-wrenching decisions.

"And now, no matter what I choose, I'm wrong. Someone dies! Something irreplaceable is lost. No matter what I decide. Never matters. Always wrong.”

She met his eyes now. Savagely daring him to try and placate her. To turn away from her. To cower before her unbound wrath. Instead he stood before her and met her gaze unflinching. I am listening, Siha.

"I understand that people die.” She continued, “It’s natural. I get it. The collectors have been taking people all this time. Thousands. Every minute we take for a personal mission, or go on shore leave for morale. Every extra hour we spend stress-testing and preparing. More suffer, more die. You can't control it. That's life, it comes with death. Casualties. I fucking get it. I always have. But god damn it!" Her voice was ragged with passion.

"If we go in there unprepared, we don't stand a chance of saving anybody. Suicide indeed! No one left to stop them. Nothing accomplished. I know I've made the right decision. But..." She was railing, positively glowing with tendrils of dark biotic energy as though she would blow herself apart with rage and grief. "I can't bear having made it. How long do they have before the collectors turn them into those abominations? Those mindless teched-out zombies? Those husks? Seven hours to our destination, another seven hours to get back, that is, if Garrus and Tali manage to finish the damn cannon by the time we get to the relay. How many of them will be left after all that time? Karin? Kenneth and Abbey? Kelly? Oh god, I can't bear to be the one who decided NOT to save them. Oh god. I don't want it any more. I'll fight. I'll die.” Her voice began to crack. “But dear god, don't make me choose any more. I can't choose. I abstain. I fucking abstain! Do you hear me!?"

He ventured to close the gap between them. Her biotics were burning through her, but he ignored the dizzying electric pain as he pulled her into his arms. Surprisingly, rather than exploding, she merely collapsed against him, a living rag-doll slumped over his shoulder. The lines on her skin cooling as the dark energy dispersed. Droplets of blood beaded at the newly opened seams of her scars. He held her.

 _I understand, Siha. It is too much to ask of anyone, and you have born it well._ Her skin was fiery and feverish. The scent of her blood, her singed skin, her vulnerability, was in his nostrils. He could not resist enfolding her more tightly in his arms, treasuring her surrender. It was an honor that he could support her in a moment of well-deserved weakness. He hoped the force of his touch, the pressure of his body might give her the strength to block out her agony. He rocked her slightly, crooning in a deep sorrowful rumble.

She remained boneless in his arms; a puddle of shuddering grief. Her reason obliterated, her ego entirely dispersed. She was gloriously nobody and nothing; free to be one with the agony she felt. She didn't even notice when he laid her down on his cot.

 

* * *

 

She awoke with a start; the instantaneous disorientation of waking in Life Support dispersing within seconds."How long was I out?"

"Nearly four hours, Siha." He left his customary seat at the table to kneel next to her.

Relief washed over her, nothing lost. She had needed the rest anyway, and she was feeling almost renewed. She sat up to face him. Her thoughts returned to the grim reality before her, but now she was ready to face it; to make the best of another nightmare scenario.

"Thank you, Thane. For letting me..."

"Think nothing of it, Siha. I am honored to be of service, even if only a little."

Strangely, she didn't feel embarrassed. Nor was she surprised at the gravity of his tone. She should have been ashamed, humiliated, to have lost it so thoroughly in front of anyone, much less the reserved assassin. But instead she was oddly glad he'd witnessed it. Grateful for his understanding and willingness to share her misery. She looked fearlessly into his eyes.

"You have soothed me much more than a little, Thane." She took his hand in hers and pressed it to her cheek. Closing her eyes and hoping to somehow, pour her gratitude through the connection of that single touch, she leaned into his hand.

She did not even open her eyes when she felt him press his lips to hers. It was not a kiss urgent with desire nor tentative with asking. Instead, it was a timeless reveling of tenderness and gratitude.


	18. A Reckoning

_Shit._ They shouldn't have. How could she? What the hell was wrong with her? Such a stupid complication. _Stupid stupid stupid._

Still, when she brought herself to think back on it, to relive the moment, she didn't exactly regret it. No, she only truly regretted that it would hurt Garrus.

_Fuck. I don't have time for this nonsense. Shit buckets. Quad fucking matriarchs!_

She paused for a moment, to think. If nothing else, at least this absurd dramatic incident served two purposes. Her self-indulgent breakdown had released some volatile, pent up anxiety and gotten her some vital sleep. And then the distraction of this senseless little drama she'd created for herself had helped clear out some of the wasteful guilt which had clouded her thoughts. Although now it was replaced with guilt of another kind.

What a strange comedic irony. Now that she felt relatively ready to set her failure aside and face those reaper-modified horrors on the other side of that fucking relay, she cringed at the thought of facing Garrus.  The universe had seen fit to grace her with its sense of humor in her time of trial. The absurdity of life never failed to amuse her. She could almost laugh. Almost.

 

* * *

 

Shepard palmed open the door to her quarters to find Garrus pacing anxiously. Surprised, she asked "Garrus? I thought you were getting some sleep?"

"I wanted to, but I had to see you. I've never seen you so...miserable, so I waited here." He indicated the room at large then looked at her accusingly, "EDI told me you’ve been in Life Support?"

"I fell asleep...Don't look at me like that, it's not what you're thinking."

"So what am I thinking, Shepard?"

"Stop it. I was upset," she defended herself. "I guess my biotics were flaring up. It must have been obvious. Thane escorted me to Life Support before I blew a gasket in the middle of the mess hall."

"And then you fell asleep?" he asked, incredulous.

Looking away she answered. "Well, yeah after I sort of threw a temper tantrum. Crying and... and generally behaving like a complete moron and Thane," she paused a the memory. "I guess he understood." Her gaze returned to Garrus. "And, I don't know if you know this, but when humans cry, it's exhausting. I didn't mean to, but I fell asleep on his cot. There was nothing untoward except for a friend giving me a little compassionate space to be weak." _Great. And now you're lying to your best friend. You're a piece of shit, Jane._

"Why did it have to be him? Why couldn't you come to me?"

The shame of that kiss, and the subsequent lie of omission it inspired, was making her uncharacteristically defensive. "Because I thought I gave you a fucking order to get some rest for the next mission. My losing my shit like that isn't your responsibility."

Garrus exploded, making her flinch just a tiny bit. "The hell it isn't! I thought you trusted me above all others? I thought...Nevermind Commander. I suppose it's my own fault for disregarding an order." He mimicked a biting human salute as pushed past her to leave.

Nothing pisses off an Alliance marine like a mockery of their salute. She moved to block his path and glared up at him, bumping right up against the chestplate of his armor. She tried to check her tone before speaking. She failed.

"I need you to get your shit together, Garrus. I'm depending on you. We've got a crew to save, so grow out of whatever fucking authority/daddy issues you've been lugging around and step up to becoming the natural born leader I know you are!"

Garrus slammed his fist against the door behind her. "Spirits shuck you for that Jane!" he growled in her face. "What exactly do you want from me? I've always stayed at your side, in your shadow, following your orders even when... Do you want a leader or a sidekick? Or just a friend for a little affectionate 'sparring' because you trust me so much? Still you send me away to rest and then go to the drell... Should I be your friend or your lover? Whatever suits your needs, right? And I know you're under a lot of pressure but that doesn't make it fair to me. You've put me in an impossible position, so in human terms, go fuck yourself!"

"After you!" She raised her voice a few decibels to match his. "You think I don't know what impossible positions are like, asshole? Everything pushing and pulling you in infinite directions? Hell, you'd think dying would have earned me the right to a little rest. Anyone gonna let up on me because it's not fair? More to the point, _should_ they?"

His seething eyes blinked at that one. She drew a breath and lowered her voice again.

"Despite all the hype around 'Commander fucking Shepard,' I can't do this alone. I never could. I'm sorry, but I need you." She laid a hand on his armoured shoulder. "I _did_ come to you -I came to you to facilitate this plan to get our crew back. I was relying on you with something much more important than my paltry emotional well-being." He briefly closed his eyes at her words. "If anything happens to me, I'm counting on you to get the crew out of this. And furthermore, I'm counting on you to do whatever it takes to get the rest of the galaxy prepared against a reaper invasion. No more running off to be a film noir vigilante, bogged down in your regrets. Use that shit as a baptism. Hell, use your anger toward me. But do it, Garrus."

He backed away and released a gruff sigh loaded with several dark subharmonic undertones. He managed to look both infuriated and resigned at the same time, but he nodded his agreement. "Right. Well. I'm -how does Joker put it? I'm a real dickhead?"

She sputtered a choked laugh, then took a deep breath of her own, feeling her features soften with her exhale. Garrus deserved better than this. They all did.

"Garrus, like it or not, we bring out the best in each other, but it also means we may be demanding too much of each other too. Spurring the trust and affection between us into something more intimate might or might not have been a mistake. But I won't apologize for it and I won't regret it either. Meanwhile, all we really have left to do is suck it up and lead this team through hell and back."

She stepped closer, but when he didn't relax his stance she stopped and sighed. She nudged her head to towards the door, "Dismissed."

He turned and exited her quarters without another word.

 


	19. Limbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously: The collectors have just abducted Normandy's flight crew, but they can't be rescued until the Thannix canon gets finished. They'll have to mine for more platinum first. So during the infuriating delay, Shepard found herself on the verge of a meltdown. Thane intervened to help, or at least get her someplace where she could break down privately... which resulted in a kiss.
> 
> Flustered and guilt-ridden, Shepard goes back to her cabin where she's confronted by a worried Garrus. Things get heated and voices raised.

Still fuming, Shepard struggled to compose messages to the families of Hawthorne and Hadley. She was almost grateful for the argument she’d had earlier with Garrus, it helped to have something to be angry about as she worked. Otherwise the futility of her words, which would no doubt ring empty to grieving loved ones, might engulf her in churlish despair.

One bleak task after another, Shepard set about completing the finishing touches on the data package she’d been preparing to send to Liara. It contained all evidence she had acquired about the collectors and the reapers along with all the vids, wills, and _If you’re reading this…_ final correspondences of everyone aboard. Liara would know what to do with it all, if the Normandy didn’t return from the Omega 4 Relay. The commander could review that data package over and over again if she let herself, but it was wasteful and she knew it. There were better uses for this last hour of solitude. Shepard felt compelled to prepare herself mentally for the long haul ahead. She forced herself to try to sit with her thoughts; 

Taking a deliberate breath, she sat up in her chair and steadied her fidgeting hands. Not a minute passed before her left leg twitched up and down with nervous energy. She snorted at the impudent limb and commanded it to fall back in line. The hot tension coiled up in her chest almost made her wish that Cerberus had installed a pressure valve while they were making their upgrades.  She’d always relied on Karin or Garrus to play that role in the past. But Garrus was busy cooling off from his “dickhead” outburst and Karin… _Karin isn’t here. She may never be around for a late night chat again._

Shepard shook her head and attempted to force her breathing to ease in and out naturally. Perhaps she should have taken Thane up on his offer to teach her some meditative techniques after all.  _Too late now._ Her leg resumed its twitching bounce _._ It was time to stop and acknowledge what is, as her mother used to say:

_Deal with it, before it deals with you._

She’d been so concerned with the various preparations of her strike team, with their emotional stability and with squad combat synergy that she’d neglected to give any thought to training the noncombatant crew. It was a stupid oversight given that once her squad infiltrated collector territory, any number of hostiles could attempt to board the unguarded Normandy. And now it meant that she’d lost good people, and there was no way of knowing at this point, if she’d ever get them back.

_Face it. Own it. It is what it is._

She willfully acknowledged that the reality they faced on the other side of the relay could be any number of the horrors they’d seen during the chase: Karin’s corpse flung over a pile of discarded test subjects, Kelly Chambers screaming shamelessly from inside one of those pods with the ragged scratch marks inside, the bodies of Daniels and Donnelly impaled on those Dragon’s Teeth spikes which slowly converted them to soulless ravaging husks.

_Face it._

And there was nothing more she could do about it but wait: wait for a reprieve, wait for a condemnation. There was no telling which. She sat silently and let the black aching of her failure have its way with her.

_Own it._

Better to let the darkness hold dominion now in private for a time before she went out to face the rest of the crew and offer them the mask of the faithful commander in whose hands their hopes –and their lives—now rested.

_It is what it is._

* * *

Someone, probably Miranda, had organized the remaining crew to the grim task of moving the bodies on board to the small refrigerated morgue on Deck Four. She and several volunteers had set about cleaning the blood spatter, repairing the minor damage, and removing all trace of the collectors’ presence, even Jack was cooperating without complaint.

When Shepard stepped out of the elevator to see the progress everyone had made, she nodded her appreciation and then quietly rolled up her sleeves to join them. As she picked up the absorbent cloth dipped in sanitizing fluid, she tried not to wonder about Rolston, who had just relocated his family from a colony near The Traverse to San Francisco. His wife and daughter had safely escaped just before a collector attack. If Shepard didn’t find him on the other side of that relay, she’d have to contact them too.

_There’s nothing you can do for them now, so ditch the dread._ The commander clenched her jaw; she’d already given fear and despair their allotment of time and attention, she’d be damned  if she gave any of it another second. With her hands occupied with scrubbing, the commander let her mind wander to the less morbid troubles in her life: a certain reserved assassin and a gritty vigilante.

She'd always been pragmatic about sex and relationships. Having spent her entire adult life flirting with death, she knew how to live in the moment and leave it at that. There simply wasn’t any space in her hazardous life for anything long term, much less love.

She had been inclined to define love as more of a discretionary action than a feeling anyway. It was a conscious commitment to always stand by another, a sort of lifelong partnership which was sometimes unique to other friendships because it included sex and cohabitation, and for some, raising offspring. What she felt for Garrus...well, that certainly fit the bill. But then again, it wasn’t much different from the commitment she’d made to her other friends and crewmates either. Except…

Neither she nor Garrus had room in their lives for the details of cohabitation and all the rest, but there was definitely something stronger and more intimate about their relationship which stood in vibrant contrast to her other friendships and it wasn’t just the sexual tension –although they’d cultivated that in spades by then. If she hadn’t been so disoriented by what had happened in Life Support just before, she might have brought that fight to an end by instigating that tie-breaker they’d once discussed. A bit of rough sex might have been just what they both needed  and the rage and fucked up timing might have been just enough to temper all the awkward false starts they’d had. Hell, maybe it wasn’t too late to march down to the main battery now and -- _Focus, Jane. Fuck, this is why they have regs about fraternization._

She could certainly appreciate why she’d seen so many military men and women marry their careers and leave the rest of their personal needs to consorts like Sha’ira. When it came to the monogamous ideals of passion, that soulmate sort of stuff, it simply didn’t fit into interstellar naval life. Romantic love was for songs and vids. It was something experienced by only a few fortunate and/or deluded individuals.

She'd started all this with Garrus because she needed to connect with someone, as a person, a woman, whatever. She’d chosen him because she trusted him...and it didn’t hurt that she found his wit, his dead-eye, and his honesty so sexy either. She hadn’t exactly been looking for love, but when they shared their first tentative, more vulnerable intimacies, she was actually a little surprised to feel the fluttering warmth of that elusive high so many people gush about --surprised enough to shy away from it even. What had made her hesitate? Why had she jumped into a lie when she might have jumped into his arms?

_It is what it is._

And Thane? What the hell was it about that man? What the hell was it about that kiss? It was as if he’d reached inside and pulled out some painfully tender part of herself she’d never known was there. Some kind of...yearning which spiked with every beat of her heart when she thought of him. The feeling had a strange sort of urgency attached to it, like it was too fragile to stand out unprotected for long and far too precious to be ignored without serious consequences. But he had so little time left. It would be monumentally stupid of her when _–He’s dying. And I won't leave him to die alone as if all that happened between us were nothing._ Shepard paused to puzzle over the sudden resolve she felt forming in her gut. Where had that come from?

_It is what it is._

So what then? She couldn't possibly go to one without irrevocably hurting the other. And she couldn’t risk the mission by creating more emotional upheaval in addressing any of it now anyway. She let out a sigh, lowered her head and rubbed her right temple with her fingers. _Fucking limbo it is. You deserve no less._

 

* * *

Garrus couldn’t bring himself to go back up to Shepard’s quarters, instead he found himself working on odd tasks near the CIC. It irritated him to find himself on middle ground again, neither pursuing nor avoiding her. When she’d stepped towards him before, it was all he could do to keep himself from clutching her bodily to him and demanding that she space Thane Krios. He supposed it wasn’t really the reptilian’s fault, but his plate-seams itched at the thought of Shepard confiding in the assassin and then crashing on his cot. For a while there, he had more or less liked Thane, or at least he’d grown to admire Thane’s cool head and deadly efficient targeting on the field. The drell was respectably skilled in stealth and hand-to-hand combat too, an obvious asset to the strike team. But Garrus felt uneasy around the scaled assassin ever since he found him that time, calmly sitting on Shepard’s couch with a cup of tea. There was something about the way those big glassy eyes lingered on Shepard that made Garrus have to restrain his subvocals on more than one occasion since.

He’d never been attached enough to experience jealousy before. He didn’t like it. It was disempowering and petty...and pointless. That kind of territorial drivel wouldn’t fly with someone like Shepard. Besides, he knew her too well to assume she would callously dismiss their “bond” as she had once called it. Still, he couldn’t dismiss the feeling that she wanted something more from him. Or maybe something less? He couldn’t tell.

Why wouldn’t she just spell it out? She’d never shied from speaking her mind in any other context. Why didn’t she trust him with this? Why did she hold back from him? Did she expect him to fail? To go rogue on her? Had he not passed some stupid test of will when he’d killed Sidonis? That wasn’t her place to decide. That was his business,  _his men._ He had to honor them. How did she have the gall to question his leadership, when he’d worked so carefully to support her? Couldn’t she see that his role as the loyal second was leading by example? Showing the crew his faith in her helped justify their own decision to stay in the face of doubt. It was the most valuable act of support he could offer her.

  _Spirits shuck her. I’ve never been truer to anyone in my life. What more does she want?_

Garrus clamped down on his emotions, his temper rankling, when he saw the commander exit the elevators and head straight for the armory without a second glance. He needed to talk to her again, explain to this infuriatingly hard-headed female that he felt he deserved her trust and wouldn’t settle for any more of this hesitancy. Soon they’d be at their destination and he’d have to supervise the mining and the finishing touches on that cannon, and then on they’d all go through the Omega 4 Relay straight into hell. He didn’t want to leave with that last angry conversation hanging between them. He was determined to settle this whether she was ready to or not. His parting words: _I’m a real dickhead_ , just wouldn’t stand.


	20. Atonement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Casualties of Choice:  
> The Collector's have just raided the Normandy and stolen Shep's crew. Unfortunately, they were short on minerals and the Thannix canon wasn't complete. Shep had to choose between waiting until all preparations were finished, or following the Collectors immediately through the relay. She choose the former.  
> She had an emotional meltdown as she agonized over what the choice might have cost, and Thane supported her, resulting in a kiss. The inner-conflict brought on by that kiss led to a fight with Garrus. Shep decided that she deserved all this purgatorial anxiety and wouldn't pursue the issue with either male again until after the final mission. Now she's headed for the Armory to busy herself with mission prep...

Thane stood in the armory, his sniper rifle neatly disassembled as he checked and updated his finely tuned mods at one of the workbenches. He had resolved not to seek Shepard out until after the final mission. He guessed that she must feel conflicted now, considering how close she was to Garrus and with the looming responsibilities of the mission. She carried too much on her shoulders as it was; he would not add to it.

He was too prone to spontaneous memory consciousness to meditate much. In fact Thane had already replayed the memory beyond counting. With one press of her impossibly soft cheek to his palm, she had awakened a heart long ago atrophied by grief. Gods. It seemed a single kiss had seared away all the bleakness that had come to define him these past ten years. His soul soared with gratitude. It would be all too easy to succumb to tu-fira at this point. As a result, he busied himself with menial tasks and unnecessary preparations away from Life Support.

The doors unexpectedly opened and revealed the very person Thane had intended to avoid. Shepard stopped mid-stride with a jolt when she noticed him there. He often had that effect on humans, but this was a first for his siha. It pained him more than it ought to have.

"Pardon, Thane,” she said as she began to backtrack. “I'll just...come back later." Shepard pivoted on her heel.

"Shepard, you needn’t go. I am nearly finished here." With that, he began hastily re-assembling his weapon.

She stood frozen at the doorway, facing away from him, perhaps searching her mind for a response. She would not get the chance. Garrus burst through the doors almost running her down in the process.

"We’ve got to have this out, Jane." When he noticed Thane standing just a few paces behind Shepard, he grunted in abrupt surprise. "Damn." Shooting daggers with his eyes, Garrus backed away.

Shepard extended one hand, digits splayed in a gesture of alarm to stop him. "Hold it, Garrus! Just, stop." Garrus did as she asked but Thane could see the turian fighting some inner battle as he did so. Shepard let out a sigh and walked back into the room. “Thane, you stay as well.” At his wordless agreement, she slumped down onto one of the far workbenches, in neutral territory. "Avoidance was a shit plan anyway,” she mumbled to herself before addressing them. “Now that we’re here, I should set the record straight.” She met Garrus’s glower with a steady, if imploring gaze. “Just hear me out before either of you say anything."

She looked up at Garrus first, as if dreading what she had to say. "Garrus, I --You were right. I didn't know how to admit it to myself but…” she hesitated, “there is something between Thane and I. Something more than camaraderie... It was stupid of me to blow past it as if it didn’t exist. I’m sorry if I… ” She trailed off seemingly unsure of what to say next.

Thane kept his reaction under tight control. He couldn’t help but feel a trace of warmth pass through his being at her words. Validation combined with hope radiated from his core, but he was swift to conceal it, lest he offend Garrus.

Eyes downcast on her restless hands, Shepard confessed, “I've been thinking about you both, trying to make sense of it really --which is fucking absurd when you think about what we're facing here." Looking up again and squaring her shoulders, she continued, "Usually, when I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, I simply pick the tactical advantage in battle and the lesser evil everywhere else. I don’t agonize over decisions.” She shook her head, obviously trying to come to the point. “But this is different and I realized…that to be romantically involved with either of you at this point would be a...a sin," she sputtered over the last word in frustration. “God, does that even translate? An offense to my heart." She ran nervous fingers through her hair, seemingly frustrated with her lack of eloquence.

Thane could hear the weariness in her voice. It pained him to see her burdened so unnecessarily. It was selfish of him to hope as he did when she had confided in him how conflicted she was with her many other responsibilities.  
Shepard steeled herself and looked straight into his eyes. "Thane, I don't think I'll ever understand what it is about you. You drew something out, I never knew I had in me. You've been so kind and…” She took a moment to find her next words. “I’ve just never met anyone like you. I can’t help but feel...an affinity. But I can’t do anything with that, not without betraying something precious to me."

He inclined his head slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. _I understand. Be at peace, Siha._

"Garrus," she turned to look at him directly. "You've been with me from the start, always had my six when the rest of the galaxy would gladly desert me or put a bullet in my skull. I depend on you. I trust you with my life, with the lives of my crew. It all comes down to this: There's no Shepard without Vakarian.” She smiled gently, seemingly relieved to see his avian features soften. “How could I deny this new brand of tenderness developing between us?” She slumped down, "But, it’s also strained our friendship in so many ways. I depend on it too much to fuck with that. Especially now."

Garrus looked away; the ferocity which had carried him in appeared to have dissipated completely.

"Of course it would have been a lot simpler if I’d figured this out and spoken to you sooner. I just thought if I got us through this mission…but I'm only magnifying this mess every minute I wait. And now I’ve failed the most vulnerable of our crewmates and there might not be a damn thing I can do about it.” Her voice was tinged with anger as she muttered to herself, “Just as I told everyone from the start, you can’t put your head in the game if you have unfinished business.”

“Excuse the interruption, Shepard,” EDI’s well-timed intrusion was managed with a contrite tone of voice, perfectly executed. “We have arrived at Lorek and are preparing to enter orbit.”

“I’ll be right there, EDI,” Garrus interjected before Shepard could respond. ”Looks like Tali and I better get busy with those mining probes.” He nodded curtly, looking her in the eye. “We will talk later, Jane.” There was something of a command in his tone.

The sound of the doors closing behind him seemed inordinately loud. Thane looked to the commander, still staring after the closed doors. He knew exactly what he must do.

"Siha." Thane stepped closer to face her, "Please accept my apology." He permitted himself the liberty of gently lifting her chin until her eyes met his, just this once, before he removed himself from her list of burdens. "It was presumptuous of me to...to hope to be your chosen. I have nothing to offer you. No future. It is clear that you need Garrus and that you care for each other deeply. He can offer you...a life." He furrowed his brows and closed his eyes briefly to steel himself against the suffering this simple truth brought him.

"It was wrong of me to come between that possibility. You have given me a purpose. You have returned me to my son. I wish to leave you in peace. After we defeat the Collectors, I will return to Kolyat." His voice faltered as he saw the sea rising in her eyes. He added, "But I hope you will not object if I carry you in my heart."

Shepard could no longer dam the tears as she spoke, "Thane."

He silenced her by touching her hand. "Giving me this opportunity is enough." With that, he tore himself from her gaze to collect his weapon and return to the confines of Life Support. As he did so, he silently prayed that surrendering her now, would atone for the distress he had caused them both.


	21. Getting It Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Casualties of Choice:  
> While all of the combat squad members were training, Collectors abducted most of the Normandy crew. Shepard began pursuit straight for the Omega 4 Relay when EDI informed her that they still had not yet upgraded the Thannix cannon. Shepard then made the agonizing decision to delay pursuit until the cannon is finished, knowing that it could mean losing Dr. Chakwas, Kelly, and the rest of the crew.
> 
> Shepard broke down emotionally over the possible casualties. Fortunately Thane was there to help her through it. 
> 
> Shepard returned to her quarters to find Garrus pacing there, hurt that she had leaned on Thane instead of him. Guilt led to defensiveness and she attacked him for not focusing on the mission. They argued, Shep telling Garrus to suck it up and lead, and Garrus accusing Shep of being selfish and sending mixed messages about what she wanted from him. They settled on a sour truce.

After quickly sorting the quantity of platinum and other minerals extracted from the probe, Tali went over the specifications for the Thannix cannon upgrades one last time. There’d be no room for mistakes or miscalculations. The Normandy couldn’t afford to return later if they were short on resources. Satisfied they had all they needed, Tali silently worked inputting the specs for the fabricators, alongside an intense and telescopically narrow-focused Garrus.

  
After a third vibratory grumble from the agitated turian, Tali finally protested, “Garrus, you’re about as charming as a vorcha. Go back and talk to her, already.”

  
“Sure, it’s _that_ simple, just as soon as I figure out what the hell I should say, --wait.” He paused to scrutinize her mask-veiled face, “How much do you know?”

  
“Everyone knows about you and Shepard..and Thane,” she replied matter-of-factly. “You aren’t honestly surprised, are you? It doesn’t take a lifetime on the flotilla to figure out that there’s no such thing as privacy on a starship.” She shrugged as she continued to input their recently calculated specs, “Catch up.”

  
A fourth vibratory grumble was his only response.

  
Tali pressed on, “So are you going?”

  
“This cannon is top priority,” there was something halfhearted in his tone, she was almost sure of it.

  
She scoffed at him. “We’ve gone over the specs three times. You’ve got at least an hour before this new cascable is fabricated. What are you waiting for?”

  
He predictably shifted his weight from side to side in answer.

  
Resisting the impulse to physically shove him towards the door, she said, “You have nothing to be nervous about. If anyone can reach her, you can.”

  
He still didn’t budge.

  
“Fine,” she turned towards him, “Pretend I’m Shepard.”

  
“Not happening.”

  
“I have a shotgun.”

  
Facing her, Garrus began, “Shepard, I’ve been thinking…” He averted his eyes, presumably fumbling for the right words. “Would you consider spacing Thane Krios? I’m not sure you noticed, but his mournful subharmonics sound like an elcor in heat. He’s too damned brooding, like a giant green jinx. It’s definitely endangering the mission.”

  
Tali cocked her hip out in a show of annoyance. “Seriously, Garrus?”

  
“What?” Garrus reached up and rubbed at his bandage. “There’s no sane response to a situation like ours. How should I know what to say? I’m not even sure what to think.” He let his arm drop, “I suppose I should have guessed that her deep damnable sense of responsibility wouldn't allow her to choose one over the other, regardless of how she might actually feel. Who knows if she really wants me, but is too kindly disposed to the lonely, dying guy to pursue it or if she’s too beholden to her friendship to me to give into her attraction to Thane? I doubt _she_ knows either.”

  
Tali sighed as she turned back to her console. Her heart went out to him. He was a good soul. And Shepard was letting that habit of personal self-sacrifice bleed through to Garrus too. His needs were getting the same neglectful treatment as Shepard’s and it was a shame to see it. Tali wished she had some useful advice, and then it hit her.  
“Maybe you should just forget about everything.” She tilted her head imploringly. “Just focus on the one most important thing you’d want her to know if one of you didn’t make it back through the relay.” Garrus looked painfully uncomfortable at that statement. She continued, “ I know when Shepard and I found my father...all I could think about was everything that went unsaid. Speak your heart aloud, Garrus. It matters.” She bumped his shoulder with her own. “Besides, how can I trust your calibrations if you’re this distracted?”At least that got him to chuckle. “Don’t be such a bosh’tet.” She nudged him towards the door.

* * *

 

In the quiet downtime the elevator provided, Garrus’s accusation haunted Jane once more. _You’ve put me in an impossible position._

  
The more she thought about it, the more selfish and childish she felt. She’d leaned on Garrus like a crutch from the moment she’d found him again. He was her touchstone, her best friend, and she had repaid him with half-gestures and rescinded affection. And then, to rub salt in the wound, when he showed her how much he cared, she had dismissed him and accused him of weakness; demanded that he step up and lead when she couldn’t hack it by herself. She unconsciously swallowed the bad taste forming in her mouth. _Well so much for the infallible Commander fucking Shepard._ Whatever else happened, once they got through this, she would make it up to him somehow. She had to.

  
As the elevator doors opened, Shepard caught her breath at the sight of Garrus leaning against her cabin door. He was unarmored, and dressed in civilian clothes.

  
"Shepard, we need to talk."

  
Though she glimpsed a familiar light-hearted glimmer in his eye, her stomach still turned over on itself as she opened the doors to her quarters. Once inside, she strode to the music player to silence the Quarian blues playing over the speakers. When she turned back to Garrus, he was standing alongside the aquarium. He looked somehow stronger without his armor. His torso was broad and robust relative to slim skeletal hips and long-stemmed legs. His exposed jaw seemed odd without the rimmed collar of his armor framing it.

  
"After our little showdown in the armory, I got to thinking again,” Garrus began. “Thinking about how it felt to have you back after we lost the first Normandy.” He stepped down the few steps leading to the lower half of her quarters. “About the first time we talked about, er, blowing off steam. About the jealousy I've since nursed and how after everything we’ve been through, how stupid it is to doubt you."

  
Shepard’s guilt reared up to strike. "Garrus, it's--"

  
"Now just hold on, Jane,” he interrupted. “I need you to shut up for once and hear me out.” He clasped her shoulders and led her to sit on the couch, then sat himself, facing her. His tone was unusually soft and flinty. “Shepard it nearly killed me when I lost my best friend to the Collectors two years ago. And now that we're going after them into spirits-only-know what kind of hell tomorrow, I need to...clear things up between us.” He took his visor off and thrummed his vocals. (She’d always liked the way he cleared his throat). “After all the deaths and near deaths...with or without the interference of the Collectors, or Cerberus or even half-dead drells… Everything aside, I finally realized there is one...higher truth, I guess."

  
Garrus paused as complete conviction settled over him. "It's that bond you mentioned, Jane. No matter what happens, you were right. We'll always be partners. Always. It truly is an unbreakable bond.” He shifted a little, ill at ease. “Yes it is...something...to explore whatever else we can be.” He hastily added, “But honestly, I was perfectly content with the state of our friendship before the idea ever came up. Whatever happens -or doesn’t happen- in private, it’s still an honor to serve with you.” He gave her a warm, crooked smile, his good mandible drawn up just a little higher than the other. “There’s no Vakarian without Shepard either, you know. It doesn’t mean you’ll lose me if you decide to create some measure of happiness with Thane before he dies. It's not a betrayal, Jane.” He took her by the hand and studied her carefully.

  
Shepard looked down, and let out a measured breath. This was the last thing she had expected to hear from him. She wasn’t sure how to respond and she damn sure didn’t know how to mask the multitude of conflicting emotions overwhelming her.

  
He squeezed her hand drawing her attention back, “Is he the one you want?"

  
 _Yes,_ her heart answered without hesitation despite her reason, which hadn’t quite caught up yet. She paused respectfully before nodding.

  
"Well, I’m with you regardless, Jane.” He exhaled deliberately, pushing past his own disappointment. “Content to fight the good fight, covering your six.” He smirked. “Are we clear?"

  
Shepard slowly blinked her eyes once before allowing a very genuine, open smile to spread across her face. His words lifted a weight she hadn't known she'd carried. "Thank you, Garrus." She wished she could tell him how she loved him, but she couldn't think of a way to do it without complicating matters further. She’d have to settle for showing him over time. She was deeply grateful he was giving her the opportunity to.   
  
Garrus was warmed by Shepard’s smile. It was satisfying to verify that he'd finally, _finally_ gotten it right. He got to his feet, pulling her up by both hands. He dropped his head down to rest his forehead against hers. They stood for some time like that, not speaking, joined in the security of one another's presence.

* * *

It was remarkable, the difference Garrus’s words had made. Her heart was electric, pumping blood infused with warm anticipation through every extremity. It felt more intense than stims and it gave her a heady sense of purpose.

  
Shepard was in awe of the universe. Through all the horror fate had seen fit to shower around her, through all the duty and grim determination, there were always these pockets of beauty, of connection. They popped up so unexpectedly, in the midst of despair, in the midst of hopelessness. Some gorgeous blurb of meaning. A kindness. A noticing. A tiny ripple which could topple a fortress of brutality and ruthlessness.

  
That was life. That was what she fought for. That was what those ancient sentient monsters, in all of their cycles of “salvation through destruction,” had missed. Would always miss. Just a ripple. The heart of a single person swelling for another. Just one in a sea of beings. So fleeting. But that’s the beauty of it.

She braced herself for a pitstop at Mordin’s lab. She found she actually looked forward to the smug salarian’s self-satisfied smile this time. She couldn’t afford to risk the possible mild hallucinogenic effects she planned to expose herself to this night cycle. The very thought of those lips sent a fresh wave of tingling anticipation through her body as she dressed.

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, that's better.   
> My apologies for the poor formatting and editing when I initially uploaded this. I don't have internet and I've been sitting on this chapter for ages, too distracted and/or chicken-shit to post. So I just decided to go ahead and do it damn it....and then the baby immediately started fussing and I had to get the hell out of the crowded coffee shop with free wi-fi I was in. Afraid I'd use this as another excuse to delay posting even longer...I just hit "Post Without Preview"  
> Anyway I've cleaned it up now and begun writing in earnest again.  
> Thanks for all the encouragement dear readers!


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